Harry Potter and the Temple of Doom
by Sivad Ttarp
Summary: Sequel to HP and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Harry, Ron and Luna crash-land in India where they must battle a demonic cult to save three sacred stones of incredible power and hundreds of children.
1. Chapter 1: A Deal Goes Awry

Chapter one: a deal goes awry

It was new years day in Shanghai. Brightly colored magical rockets soared, engineered to burst into the shapes of dragons, hippogriffs, and other impressive creatures, which swooped about the muggle skyline, invisible to the thousands of muggles below. It was a beautiful sight to any wizard able to see it.

And it did not interest Harry Potter at all.

Club Obi-Wan resided at the tip of one of the tallest buildings in Shanghai, unknown to its muggle builders. The main dining room was built in white marble. Tables were arranged in a circle around a stage built into the mouth of a stone dragon. On this stage a pretty blond witch was singing something Harry didn't recognize, partly because it was in Cantonese. Magical balls of light, which hung in the air high above, illuminated the ballroom. They weren't even necessary this night; he view of the fireworks from the large windows did enough to light up the place.

Harry stood at the edges of the room, hiding behind a convenient pillar. From his hiding place he watched the man sitting at one of the tables furthest from the stage. He was short, slightly overweight, but in a way that made him look intimidating, rather then obese. He had graying black hair, dark eyes, and wore a black tuxedo. Younger, equally Asian men flanked him on either side, his sons, Kao Kan and Chen. The man's name was Lao Che, and he was the biggest crime lord in Asia. This was helped somewhat by the fact that, unknown to many of his employees, he was a wizard. He was also an enemy of the Ministry of Magic. All of the Aurors sent to spy on him earlier had disappeared inexplicably. Harry, however, would be taking a different approach.

"Are you sure you want to go ahead with this, Harry." That was Warren Yen. Another auror, one who had been assigned to accompany Harry to Shanghai, as backup. He wore the dark suit of the waiters of Club Obi-Wan, he would watch, and step in if anything went wrong.

"Its too late now, isn't it," said Harry. "Besides, after Dietrich, he's nothing." Less than a year ago, the dark wizard Hernon Dietrich had escaped for azkaban. Harry had embarked on a quest over three continents to keep Dietrich and his small army of ex-Death Eaters from recovering the mythical Ark of the Covenant. Though it was supposed to be confidential, most of the details of Harry's exploits had become common knowledge throughout the auror office. In Harry's opinion, the best thing that had come from the quest for the Ark, had been being reacquainted with his former girlfriend Ginny Weasley, finding her in an obscure tavern in Nepal. He had spent much of the last months with her; this was his first overseas assignment since he had returned from Egypt.

"Potion, please." Warren handed Harry a small vial of a muddy green potion. He downed it in a single gulp, grimacing. The taste was horrible, but worse was the pain as his body changed, growing in places, shrinking in others, his hair receding into his skull. Once the transformation was complete, Harry's clothes, a white tuxedo jacket over a white shirt and dark tie, with black slacks, fit much more comfortably.

"The Polyjuice will only last an hour, so don't take too long. Good luck." Warren disappeared, moving quickly toward the kitchens, where he would join the other waiters. Harry put his glasses in his pants pocket, he wouldn't need them for the next hour, and, taking a deep breath, strode out into the club, navigating tables and waiters as he moved toward Lao Che's table.

As he walked past, Harry glimpsed his reflection in a silver tray. He was a tall, brown-haired man, a bit bulkier than Harry usually was and, Harry noticed somewhat apologetically, handsomer.

The blonde finished her number as Harry reached the table. Lao Che clapped respectfully with the rest of the clubs patrons, as Harry sat down, opposite him. This was the plan, he had not come to spy on Lao Che, not yet, but gain his trust as a dealer of antiques, many of which were of questionable legality.

"Ah, Mr. Jirkens," Lao Che acknowledged him. It took Harry a moment to remember his false name and greet the crime lord in turn. "I've been awaiting your arrival with interest. Would you like anything?"

"No thank you, not yet." Harry glanced at the filled champagne glass at his place, and had to remind that as hospitable as he might seem, Lao Che was very much a criminal.

"You have Nurhachi?"

"Yes," said Harry. "But it wasn't as easy as you-"

"And you are going to deliver him. Now." Harry became aware that Kao Kan was holding a wand on him, under the table.

Harry held two fingers, "Now, be nice. Otherwise I may change my mind." Lao Che nodded, and Kao Kan hesitantly put his wand back into his jacket pocket.

Harry reached into his own jacket, and pulled out a small, intricately carved jade bottle. He placed on the rotating wheel at the center of the table, designed so that shared entrees would not have to be passed by hand. Chen spun the table and Lao Che picked up the bottle. He prodded it with his wand, and the bottle glowed. Satisfied of its authenticity, Lao Che tucked the bottle containing the cremated ashes of Nurhachi, first emperor of the Manchu dynasty, into his jacket.

With his father's approval, Chen brought out a small cloth bag, placing it on the wheel and spinning it around to Harry. Harry slowly picked it up and pulled at the drawstring to open it. Inside were Galleons, a small fortune of wizard money. If he had been himself, Harry would have taken the bag of money as sufficient payment. However, Mr. Jirkens would not.

"The deal was for the Eye of the Peacock." Harry replaced the bag of money and spun it back to Lao Che.

"You can not blame me for trying. I very much dislike to part with it," the crime lord sighed. He replaced the bag of coins with a different, smaller, cloth bag. Harry picked it up as it was spun to him. He upended the bag, catching the Eye of the Peacock as it fell. He was impressed. The pure, unblemished diamond fit his palm perfectly. It caught the light somewhere deep inside, trapping it in an unearthly glow.

"Beautiful," said Harry, trying to hide most of his amazement. "I can see why you wanted to keep it."

"Yes, but I do have an affection for my ancestor's remains," said Lao Che. "A toast, to a deal gone well."

"The first of many," Harry drained his glass. He was the only one to do so.

"What?" he said, as Lao Che's sons began to laugh. That was when the pain hit. Though the hour couldn't be over, the effects of the Polyjuice were fading. Within moments Harry looked like himself once more. The gangsters blurred in front of him, he unconsciously took out his glasses and put them back on, casting the world back into clarity.

"Harry Potter?" Lao Che said, with obvious surprise. "I apologize, I had no way of knowing it was you. Still, perhaps this will teach those British fools to stay out of my affairs."

Though his transformation was complete, the pain was not gone. It still lay clenched in the pit of Harry's stomach, making it difficult to breathe. Squinting through the raising blur, Harry saw Lao Che smile sadly as he lifted a slim vial of blue potion.

"What's…"

'The antidote, Harry Potter. To the poison you just drank."


	2. Chapter 2: Nightclub Brawl

Chapter two: nightclub brawl

Poison. How could he have been so stupid? No wonder Lao Che gave up the diamond so easily. The room was starting to blur and twist at the corners of Harry's vision, but there was still time. If he could get to that antidote…

"Lao Che, hand the vial to Harry." Warren Chen had appeared at Harry's right. He was still dressed as a waiter, carrying a tray of wineglasses, but hidden beneath the tray he held his wand, pointed at the crime lord.

Harry glanced at Lao Che, who made no move to do as he was told, then he remembered Kao Kan…

"Get away, he has-" at that very instant a champagne cork was popped at a nearby table. Masked by the noise, Kao Kan whispered _"Avada Kedevra." _There was a flash of green light from beneath the table, and Warren Yen went limp. The tray fell from his grip, glasses shattering, spilling champagne across the tiled floor.

Harry slipped from his seat. He felt for a pulse, but he wasn't surprised to not find one. The killing curse was quick and all but fail proof. Warren Yen was dead.

_"Stupefy!" _

The jet of red light from Harry's wand hit Kao Kan in the chest, blasting him backwards, out of his chair, to crash into a nearby table. Now this was something the other patrons could not ignore. The club erupted into screams as people rushed toward the exits, ignoring the ensuing battle.

The world lurched around Harry as he got to his feet. Doing his best to remain steady, Harry barreled into Lao Che. He grabbed for the vial of antidote, but the crime boss's grip was firm. Harry ducked as Lao Che swung a meaty fist at him. He stomped on the man's foot. But instead of releasing the vial when Harry grabbed for it yet again, Lao Che hurled it across the room, onto the stage.

As Harry, leaving the crime boss behind him, chased after the blue vial, more men in black tuxedos, Lao Che's thugs, burst into the room. Harry didn't see the thug until he stepped into his path. Harry, unthinking, belted him across the face, sending the man stumbling backward.

Two more thugs grabbed Harry's arms. He struggled to break free, but in his weakened state they had the better of him. Together, the gangsters threw him forward into a nearby champagne cart. As it toppled, ice spilled across the ground.

Dodging the screaming patrons rushing across the stage, Harry grabbed for the antidote. His fingers curled around something cool, but when he brought them to his face he found only ice. Desperate, Harry scrabbled in the ice, searching for the antidote. It was nowhere to be found.

Harry got back to his feet; he was now barely able to see, doubled over from the pain knowing at his gut. Through the blur he recognized a thug across the room reach into his jacket, moving for his wand. Harry ducked behind the marble dragon as spells crashed into it around him. He shot two spells of his own back at random, fighting the urge to vomit. By shear luck, one of them connected.

The club was now more or less deserted. Harry stumbled back out into view, searching for any hint of blue on the, now slippery, floor. Instead, the table beside him exploded. Chen stood atop his table, he yelled, a mad look on his face, as he shot random spells out into the club. Some of them speeding straight for Harry.

_"Protego!"_

A shield charm sprang up, blocking the oncoming curse, but Harry had not made it, he no longer had the strength. Fingers curled around his wrist. Though a firm grip, they were smaller and lighter than his. A woman? Harry's view was so blurred that he could not see his rescuer, though he caught a hint of red.

Now they were running, Harry being pulled along, trying his best to keep up, spells still impacting around them. The woman was pulling him, and then a crash. Sharp pain in his cheek, something had cut him. The floor fell away beneath him. He was falling. Harry realized that whoever it was had pulled him out of one of the windows.

A window that was nearly one hundred stories up.


	3. Chapter 3: Over Shanghai

Chapter three: over Shanghai

Harry had only a few seconds before impact. Not with the pavement far below, but with the car that had been floating in midair some three stories below them. He tore through the cloth canopy to land in the back seat.

"Thanks for dropping in Harry," said Ron Weasley. Even through his vision blurred by poison, Harry could make out the flash of bright red hair in the driver's seat. "I take it the deal didn't go as planned."

"No, just drive. I'll tell you later." Harry decided not to respond to Ron's terrible joke.

"Here, drink it quickly," the woman pressed something cool and thin into Harry's hand. The antidote. Without thanking her, Harry wrenched the bottle open and drained its contents. The antidote was cold and tasteless and the consistency of vegetable oil. Still, seconds after drinking it, it took effect. Harry's vision cleared, he stopped sweating, and the knot of pain in his gut all but disappeared.

Now he got his first good look at his rescuer. She was about his age, maybe a little younger. Average height and build, her hair was straight and light blond. She wore a plain, but very fine, red dress. And in her ears were small diamond earrings, in the shape of radishes.

"Luna? How…"

"No time for that now, is this really a flying car? I knew the ministry had a stock, but…"

"Erm, no. This one's mine," said Ron. "The ministry doesn't like them."

"Well, I do. I think they're sort of funny-"

The back window of the car exploded, showering Harry and Luna with crushed glass, interrupting whatever Luna had been about to say. Harry looked out to see a black sedan flying toward them. It was occupied by two of Lao Che's thugs, one driving, the other pointing his wand out the window.

"They have one of those, but that's illegal," Ron muttered.

"So is this one, if you look at it that way."

"Good point." Ron floored the accelerator. Harry was pressed back into his seat as the car surged foreword. He tried not to watch the skyscrapers rush past, or notice that they were several hundred feet off the ground.

The car made a sharp turn, swerving around the tip of a slightly shorter skyscraper. The black sedan followed without hesitation, making the turn perfectly. It was gaining. Harry turned, shooting spells back at the pursuing car. The man in the passenger's seat blocked expertly, shielding both himself and the driver.

Luna's spell made its way past his block, to hit the car's left tire, which burst. However, this did nothing to hinder the car's performance in the air.

"Hold on," Ron shouted, pulling the car into a dive. Harry's stomach seemed to leap up into his mouth. Then he saw what Ron was about to do, which made it a great deal worse. They were speeding on collision course with a wizard rocket, hiding it from the pursuing car's view. With inches to spare, Ron dropped the car slightly, the rocket whizzed above the car, scorching the remaining cloth canopy.

Behind them, it collided with the thug's vehicle, breaking through their windshield. Then it ignited. The black sedan was blown apart by an explosion of purple light, the doors torn off, its occupants burned to cinders.

Ron pulled out of his dive, only about twenty stories of the ground. Below Harry could see the busy Shanghai traffic rushing past, oblivious to the car flying above them. The flying car had been made with a spell that would mask it from muggle view. It was no invisibility cloak, but it was enough. Normally. Harry allowed himself a small grin; he had escaped without any real…except for Warren Yen. Harry had almost forgotten about him, about his death. Still, it seemed as though they were finally out of trouble.

The spell hit the flying car in the hood, denting it inward sharply. There was a metallic screech, which Harry realized was a cry of pain from the car itself. Rushing toward them was a second car. Equally black, this one was smaller, and only housed one thug. It was still more than Harry needed.

Swearing, Ron spun the wheel, swerving the car out of the way. He didn't quite make it. The rival vehicle slammed into the side of his car, shattering its headlight. The car was knocked downward; Ron barely managed to pull up above the traffic below, scratching the roof of a taxi below.

As Ron pulled up, the second car rammed into their rear bumper. Harry could she the thug's face only feet away. He fired a jinx, but missed. The gangster blocked Luna's curse easily.

_"Confundo!"_

Harry's spell hit the man in the face, effectively confusing him. Forgetting how to drive, the man screamed as his car fell out of the sky, slamming backward into a truck below. Harry looked away, but he still felt the wave of heat from the resulting explosion.

Harry was expecting more gangsters to attack him. None did. Ron managed to steer the car out of the city and set it to fly over Asia, it was a long way home.

"You said coming to Shanghai would be like vacation. That wasn't my idea of a nice relaxing holiday," said Ron, turning around in his seat, once the car was safely flying over China.

"Sorry, I didn't know the deal would go that wrong. This sort of thing always happens when I leave the U.K. I'd be dead if it weren't for Luna; thank you Luna, by the way. But how'd you know about the poison and everything."

"I guess I was just in the right place at the right time," Luna replied. "I was in China, partly for pleasure, but mostly for research. I'm editor-in-chief of the Quibbler now, you see. And I was doing a bit of research for a piece on the Chinese Triads connection to the fairy-tale of 'the Warlock's Hairy Heart'." Ron snorted at this, but Luna took no notice.

"I saw you getting beat up, trying to get the vial, and I just sort of got swept up in it. It's rather nice, actually. I haven't seen either of you for ages. Where are we going, anyway? Don't tell me, I want to be surprised." Luna lay back in her seat and closed her eyes. Harry and Ron shared a look. This would be a long trip.


	4. Chapter 4: Automobile Crash Landing

Chapter four: automobile crash landing

Time seemed to slow down in the car. Before long Harry was seriously wishing he had rethought his plan of going all the way to London in it. Luna had fallen asleep. Harry and Ron talked a little, but Harry was paying more attention to the voices in his head.

_Ask him now._

_ No. It's not the right time. _

_ It's the best time you're going to get. That's why you invited him along, isn't it?_

_ Well, yes, I guess so._

_ So ask him._

_ No. _

It went on like this for the next few hours, until Harry finally, mercifully, fell asleep.

One thing Harry, and the rest of the car's occupants, did not know, was exactly how damaged the vehicle had become during the escape from Shanghai. Staying in the air was almost more than it could bear.

Almost.

"Harry, wake up. We need you."

"What?"

"Please wake up, the car is falling out of the sky." Harry suddenly became a great deal more aware of Luna shaking him by the shoulders, as he more fully awoke.

The morning light fell in through the windows. Outside Harry saw that they were flying over a snowy mountain range, nowhere he recognized. He guessed that they had left China.

The car bucked and shuddered as Ron wrestled with the steering wheel. Harry was suddenly reminded of his second year at Hogwarts, when he and Ron had been a similar flying car, which had dropped out of the sky to collide with a whomping willow. It was not one of his most cherished memories.

"What's happening to it?' asked Harry

"I dunno, really. The bloody thing doesn't want to stay in the air."

"Do you reckon it got damaged in the battle?"

"Maybe, I-" Ron grunted as the wheel twisted wildly in his hands. The car lost a bit more altitude, nearly colliding with a nearby peak.

"Automobile's lurgy" said Luna, quietly. Neither Harry nor Ron answered her.

If got to set this thing down," said Ron. "Otherwise, we'll crash into the mountains." The car punctuated this prediction, as it dropped a few more feet and began swerving slightly to the left.

"There," said Luna, pointing out the window. "It's flat and clear. No trees." She was right. The streak of snowy ground looked as good a place to land as any, and better then some.

Ron, with the last of his control over the car, managed to get it to turn, as it slowly dropped to the ground. Despite Ron's best efforts, it hit the ground with a jolt that bounced Harry up of his seat.

The slope was more slanted then they had appeared. More then that, the car refused to park. As if it had a destination in mind, it speed down the snowy slope, spraying snow into the air with its back tires. Harry grabbed his abandoned seatbelt, as the car rapidly gained speed. It was heading straight for a small forest at the foot of the mountain.

As they entered the forest, the sky and snow around them was blocked out by a blur of green and brown. Harry was bounced in his seat all the more vigorously. Beside him, much the same thing was happening to Luna. Thought she never lost her vague, somewhat lost, look of pleasure.

Branches whipped at the car as it rushed past, Harry was sure he saw some of them moving, more than normal trees were supposed to. It was only by Ron's continuing battle with the steering wheel that they failed to collide directly with one of the trees.

"Look," Luna breathed beside him, pointing. Harry briefly glimpsed a hippogriff between the trees, watching them with a puzzled expression, before it was once again concealed from view.

After what had been only a minute, but felt longer, the car burst out of the forest. Before them was more immaculate snow, gleaming in the rising sun. The car began to slow as it reached the end of the incline.

"Now, was that really that bad?" asked Ron, releasing the steering wheel as he turned to peer into the backseat. He wasn't expecting the screams. Ron turned back quickly to see before them a huge drop as the cliff face fell away. Several hundred feet below, there came the sound of rushing water. The car seemed to hesitate at the edge of the gorge.

Then it plunged.

This was nothing like the steep dives Harry had experienced in Shanghai. This was a genuine, non-assisted, free-falling plunge. The car spun wildly as the world outside became a blur of white and blue.

The car plunged into the river with a huge splash. It sank beneath the waves and was immediately pulled along by the current, scraping along the stony river bottom. Water began to leak through the cracks around the doors and windows. The cars engine finally ground to a halt, even though the key had long past been removed from the ignition.

"On the count of three, we swim for the surface," said Ron "One-two-three." With that he pulled open the door. Water poured into the car. Harry took a deep breath, and opened his own door, kicking off the seat.

The water was cold, but not unbearably so. Harry, saw the shadowy figure of Ron some feet above him, and kicked after it. The current was strong, trying to pull him down as well as along, and Harry's lungs were bursting by the time he reached the surface.

He broke free of the water, gasping, Ron pulled him up onto the nearby rock. Harry adjusted his glasses, and shook the water from his eyes. A few second later, Luna emerged, near to where he had appeared. Harry and Ron both pulled her up. Her hair was plastered to her skull, her dress, which had not been designed for this sort of thing to begin with, was most likely ruined, but she gave no sign of caring.

"Where are we? I seriously, I have no idea" Harry asked.

"Somewhere with mountains, and water, and hippogriffs," said Luna.

"India. I think." Ron's answer satisfied Harry more.

"He might know," said Luna, pointing past them. Harry turned to see that they were being watched. There was an old man with sun-darkened skin, and long silver hair standing by the trees. His white robe was dirty and unkempt; his dark eyes sunken into a face that seemed more like a skull. Silently, he brought his hands together, and slowly brought them up to his forehead. Harry returned the greeting, after seeing Luna do so.

The old man spoke briefly, in a language quite unfamiliar to Harry, and then turned to move, silently, into the forest.

"What'd he say?" Ron asked.

"I don't know the language that well," said Luna. "But I believe he said, 'welcome, follow me to Mayapore." She got to her feet, preparing to follow.

"Did he say anything else?" Harry questioned, feeling that there had been more to the message.

"Well…yes. He says we have been sent by the gods."


	5. Chapter 5: The Village

Chapter five: the village

After they had walked for about a mile, silently following the old man, the jungle cut out abruptly. The ground was rocky and barren; the few plants were dead, burnt black. Why anyone would put a village right there was a mystery to Harry. Yet there was no mistaking the few dozen or so small, but well built, huts clustered around something. A well, perhaps?

As they neared the village, its villagers surrounded them. They were all like the old man, painfully thin, and sickly. Though there were men and women, old and young, something about the group seemed wrong to Harry, something missing.

The old man spread his arms, and spoke in the same language he had used before, explaining the visitors. Harry, Ron and Luna, were crowded from every side by the villagers. They pressed into Harry, pulling at his robes, touching his hair, poking at his exposed skin. There was no harm intended, Harry realized, they had never seen someone like him before. It seemed that their arrival was just what the villagers had hoped for; a few were even crying tears of joy. Harry guessed this had been helped by the old man explaining that they 'had been sent by the gods.'

Harry was swept along by the crowd, into the village. He saw that there was indeed a well in the center of the village, one that had gone dry and dusty, but there was something else. A stone alter, a recess built into it, shaped somewhat like a football. Harry had the feeling that its emptiness was not a good sign.

They were taken into a one of the larger huts, where villagers left Harry, Ron and Luna sitting together. Across from them, the old man, who was the village elder, as Luna explained, sat with a few other men, equally old but not nearly as intimidating.

One of the villagers, middle-aged women, brought forward three small packets and set them before the three of them. Harry picked one up; it was a large brown leaf, as dead as all the other plants in the village. Harry slowly unwrapped it. Inside was a black lump. He poked it, to realize that it was food. Rice, mixed with something else. About the most unappetizing thing Harry had seen for quite a while. He looked to one of the old men, who met his gaze, unblinking. Harry realized the small pile was for him to eat.

He glanced over to see that Ron had about the same level of interest in the food as he did. Luna, however, had already finished half of hers, eating with her fingers.

"Eat," she said, looking up. "This is more food then these people eat in a week, don't insult them. Besides, its organic." Harry decided that, considering their situation, insulting their people was exactly what not to do. He took a small portion of the pile and put it in his mouth. It tasted only slightly better than it looked. Still, there wasn't very much, and Harry managed to choke down the rest without gagging, or otherwise showing his distaste.

When he had finished, the village elder spoke, this time English. He stumbled over the unfamiliar words, but Harry still found he was easier to understand him then when he spoke in his native language.

"You have come from Shiva. Shiva brings you to us."

"Actually, that was my car-" Harry shot Ron a look that silenced him.

"Yes, we come from Shiva," said Luna, "But we must get to Delhi. Can one of your villagers guide us there."

"No, but we have map. On way to Delhi, you stop at Pankot."

"Pankot isn't on the way to Delhi, though."

"You go to Pankot Palace." Harry had never heard of Pankot Palace, though he vaguely remembered that Shiva was one of the most important gods of Indian mythology.

"The palace was deserted after the 1930s," said Luna.

"Palace has new Maharajah. No longer empty. The evil start at Pankot, but spread across the land, spread to my village. Her servants curse us."

"Why?" this time it was Ron who asked.

"We refuse to worship the evil goddess. And they punish us. They take sivalinga from our village."

"Siva-"Harry began to question.

"A sacred rock," Luna explained. "This Sivalinga," she asked, "did it have three lines across it, to represent the three levels of the universe."

The village elder nodded.

"When sivalinga was taken," continued the village elder. "Our village died. Our crops withered, our food rotted. Our animals lay down, and turned to dust. Nothing grew, the ground died. We become sick, some die everyday, but still we do not submit." A single tear ran down the elder's face, as he continued his story. There were no more interruptions, Harry was listening attentively now. Though the story seemed somewhat far-fetched, so had the Ark of the Covenant; and it certainly did explain why the land around the village was so barren (the story that is, not the ark).

"We pray to Shiva, bring us way to get sivalinga back. We pray, and he answer. You come from Shiva. You bring back sivalinga, save our village."

"Let me get this straight," said Ron. "You want us to bring back this rock, or you won't be able to grow crops or anything. It makes the ground softer?"

"Yes, but worse, much worse." answered the elder. One night, there was huge fire. Burn last plants. Go to fight it, but we fail. Then fires disappear. We return to village to find that in night, evil come. Evil goddess come and take our children away."

Harry sat by himself on the outskirts of the village, watching the sunset. He had discovered what had been wrong about the village, he had seen no children. Young adults, yes, but no one younger then fifteen. What could be powerful enough to swoop in and, in the space of a few hours, steal away all the children of Mayapore?

Harry had no need to help them. The next day, they could leave for Delhi. He had seen them map, on foot, it would be a few days journey. Then they would be able to fly out of the country, and back to London, where he could report how things had gone wrong with Lao Che. But…

These people needed help. Being a wizard, an auror even, he really was a good candidate to help them get them back their children and sacred stone. Luna seemed to know a lot about the sivalinga, and Ron, well, he was always helpful with this sort of thing. Sometimes.

Ron was asleep now, as was Luna. Harry didn't blame them, he was worn out himself. But he couldn't sleep, partly thanks to the fact that his bedroll back in the village was extremely uncomfortable. He was also trying to decide. He had only met these people hours earlier, why should he help them. But the villagers had been kind, as hospitable as they could be with their limited resources. And Harry couldn't help but remember to look on the villager's face when Ron had tried to explain to her that he had, in fact, not been sent by Shiva. The villagers expected him to be superman, so shouldn't he try to save the day? He'd done it before.

"Hi Harry, do you mind if I sit here a bit, I can't sleep."

"That's fine." Luna sat down a few feet away from him. Like Harry, she had changed out of her formal wear, wearing a simple cloth outfit, provided by the villagers.

"So what do you think," he asked, needing a second opinion. "About if we should help them or not."

"I'll let you decide, but I would agree to. Helping people is almost always worth your while. Usually. When I woke up the night before last, I was in a hotel room, ready for another day of research, and getting kicked out of places I shouldn't be sneaking around in. I didn't know that in less then a day, gangsters would try to kill me, I'd meet two of my friends from school who I hadn't seen in nearly five years, that I'd crash in the middle of nowhere in a flying car, and wind up in a primitive village with no children, no sacred rock, and a populace who unanimously believes that we were sent by the gods. Life is like that. Sometimes you have to make decisions, other times you should just go along for the ride. Does that help."

"Yeah, I think it does."

"Good." They lapsed into silence as the sun fell completely behind the mountains.

Then Harry heard the noise. A sort of crunching in the dead bracken as something moved toward them. Any other day, Harry would have passed it off as a small animal. But there were no more small animals in Mayapore; they had all been turned to dust.

_"Lumos" _

A thin light poured from the tip of Harry's wand, illuminating the immediate area. Ahead of him, a small human figure came into view. Stumbling toward them, half-crawling, it collapsed into Luna's arms. She gently laid it on the ground, so Harry could get a god look at the visitor.

It was a child, a boy, only eight or nine years old. He was Indian, like the villagers, very like the villagers, as he was one of the children who had been abducted a month previously. He wore only a ragged loincloth. He was bruised and bloodied, beaten, his arm bent oddly. His eyes rolled in his head, so that only their whites were seen. His breathing was ragged, his heart beating erratically. Luna barely managed to get out of the way as he threw up.

She vanished the vomit with a wave of her wand. "How did you make it here?" she whispered to him, softly and slowly, "Where did you go, why did they take you." She then repeated the same questions in a slurred form of the boy's own language.

He breathed out a single word; one Harry couldn't make out, and was overcome with coughing, blood trickling from between his lips. He said the same word again; this time louder, and then went limp, uncurious.

"Sankara," it was the last word ever spoke.

"He's dead," said Luna, feeling the boy's wrist. "We'll have to take him down to the village, it's the least we can do. What's this?" Luna pulled out something that had been clutched in the boy's hand. A square of cloth. She unfolded it, looked at it, and quickly stuffed it out of sight, before Harry could tell what it said. But he could tell it had had an impression.

"Here," said Luna, as Harry was about to enquire about the message, or whatever it was, on the cloth. "You can help carry him."

After a few moments, it was discovered that the boy was so light that, it was much more practical for Harry to carry the boy by himself. As he followed her into the village, Harry voiced what he had been thinking over the last few minutes.

"What is Sankara?"

Luna turned back to look at him. It took her a moment to answer. Harry was partly expecting her to launch into a long-winded explanation involving Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and the little creatures that spawned in brewing cauldrons, but she didn't

"It's fortune and glory, Harry. Fortune and glory."


	6. Chapter 6: Luna's Tale

Chapter six: Luna's tale

"So," asked Ron Weasley, the following morning, "Where exactly are we going? Delhi?"

"No," Harry answered, "Not yet that is. First were going to Pankot Palace."

"To find the children and the magic rock?"

"Well, maybe. At least to take a look around. It couldn't hurt."

"Right, sounds good." Harry was glad at how easily Ron had adjusted to their new plan.

Harry did not sleep well, the memory of the boy's death, his last words, and the mystery message that Luna had received, kept him awake wondering. If any good had come from the boy's death, it was that it had convinced Harry to do all he could for the villagers.

The trio left shortly after sunrise, skipping breakfast. According to the villager's map, which was fairly old, it was a two-day journey to Pankot on foot. That was if they followed the road, which was little more than a dusty track anyway. However, if they cut straight thought the jungle, it would cut half a day off their journey. Harry had chosen this route.

Each of them carried makeshift backpacks, provided by the desperate people of Mayapore. These contained the same bedrolls they had used the previous night, a change of clothes, and food, which Harry had every intention of ignoring, or perhaps depositing in the nearest shrubbery.

"Hotter then yesterday," said Ron, skirting a deep puddle, which marked the line between the fertile jungle and the cursed wasteland around the village. "Then again, everything seems colder when you're soaked."

"Right," said Harry. "But this isn't nearly as hot as Egypt.'

"Yeah, we'll you're probably right, I haven't been to Egypt for a while. What d'you reckon those are." He pointed up at the sky. Harry looked up to see over a hundred black birdlike animals flying in the same direction as them, with no recognizable formation.

"Giant Bludbirds," said Luna, glancing up as well. "Beautiful creatures, they swoop down on lone travelers and kill them by sucking all the blood from their veins, using it as a sort of glue for their nests."

"Okay," said Ron, somewhat skeptically. To Harry the flying creatures looked like normal fruit bats, but he had long since learned not to argue with Luna over that sort of thing.

Before long, they lapsed into silence. The jungle grew thicker, until it blocked out the sky. Harry found some small, unrecognizable but palatable fruit for them to eat as they walked. The day seemed to go by very quickly, and more or less uneventfully.

As night fell, Harry found a promising clearing for them to set up camp. After chasing off a few lizards and a rather large snake, Harry and Luna built a fire, which is much easier with magic. Meanwhile, Ron left for a few minutes and returned with a small mammal of unknown origin, which they cooked over the fire to make a reasonable, though somewhat flavorless, meal.

After eating, there was nothing left to do. Harry rolled out his bed, and lay on it. He noted, somewhat guiltily, that it was a great deal more comfortable then it ha been in Mayapore.

As night fell, the insects arrived in earnest. Harry spent a few sleepless hours blasting mosquitoes out of the air with his wand.

"Luna," he called, after remembering what had been bothering him all day. "Are you awake."

"More so now, than a few minutes ago."

"Me to, funnily enough," came Ron's voice.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's no trouble, I like a few good breaks during a hard nights sleep," said Luna.

"Right, so, Luna. I was wondering. You seem to know a lot more about this stuff then the rest of us. What do you think it means, the stuff about a dark goddess? It's not a real goddess, is it, I mean, that's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible Harry, but it's probably not a real goddess."

"So who do you think it is," asked Ron. "Death Eaters?"

"I don't think so," she answered, "They wouldn't care less about whether or not some village of muggles worshipped their gods, they'd just kill them anyway."

"Good point.'

"But why do you think they would want some village's sacred rock," Ron questioned.

"I think," Luna replied, "that someone believes the villager's sacred rock to be one of the lost Sankara stones."

This hung in the air for a moment, until Ron spoke. "What's that?"

"Wait," said Harry, "The cloth the boy gave you, that had a message on it, right. About Sankara. Can I see it?"

"Yeah, I have it here." Luna rummaged in her pack for a moment, and pulled out the cloth, tossing it to Harry. He lit his wand, and unfolded it.

Painted on the cloth was a man in a red robe, sitting, his hands together. Opposite him sat a larger man, dressed in red also, but with a white crown. The second man had blue skin. The blue man was handing five identical stones to the smaller man. Surrounding the painting were scrawled some ornate letters Harry did not understand. Somewhat puzzled by the picture, he passed it to Ron.

"So, what does it mean?" asked Ron, after a moment's examination.

"It's torn from an ancient scroll, the writing is Sanskrit."

"Can you read it?"

"Not really, but I know what it means," said Luna.

"Do tell."

"It's an excerpt from the legend of Sankara. Sankara was a priest in Indian mythology. He scaled Mount Kalisa in his quest for enlightenment. At its summit, the god Shiva came to him. Shiva gave him five sacred stones with great power, for him to combat evil."

"Magic rocks," said Ron.

"I suppose so, yes."

"Tell me Luna," said Ron. "Have you ever seen one of these Sankara stones?"

"Well, no. They were lost hundreds of years ago."

"So how do you know they exist?"

"There are records, sightings-"

"But no proof. It's a myth."

"The Deathly Hallows were a myth," Harry added, but Luna's comeback was much better,

"If everything you knew needed proof, you would know a great deal less, Ronald Weasley. Sometimes you can just believe in something, know that it's true, without concrete proof. It's called living."

There was silence. Harry realized, somewhat pleasantly, that Luna had beaten down Ron's skepticism completely.

"So, these stones," said Ron after a while, "what exactly do they do for you."

"Fortune and glory," said Harry, before Luna could answer.

"Among other things," she said, yawning. "Which is probably why whoever those people are want it. Night."


	7. Chapter 7: Pankot

Chapter seven: Pankot

After a small breakfast of some more fruits Harry found, they set off again. The ground sloped upward, and as they neared Pankot, the forest became much more alive. The sounds of birds and mammals was deafening, mosquitoes feasting on the three travelers, until Luna wisely put a repelling spell on each of them.

Harry was still tired from the last days walking, and it wasn't long until he was lagging behind the other two, sweat running down his neck, soaking his uncomfortable peasant clothing. Then something happened to put all thought of the heat out of his mind.

"Bloody hell," Ron swore from somewhere ahead. Harry stumbled into a clearing to find Ron staring in disgust at a worn statue built into the hillside. It was about five feet high, made of worn gray stone. It was of a hideous demon, possibly female, considering the shape, and ugly beyond belief. Its eyes bulged; it cracked and crooked teeth biting its own forked tongue. In a pool at the statues warped and twisted feet, was a small dish, filled with red liquid. Blood. Around the statues neck hung a garland of decapitated animals, birds, lizards and mice. Worse then that, in each of the statue's eight arms hung a rotting severed head.

A human head.

The heads were covered with flies; one even had a black bird pecking at its wide unseeing eyes. The stench was terrible. Harry retched, his mouth filled with the acrid taste of bile. Though he had seen unspeakable things during his life, mainly due to the actions of Lord Voldemort, this ranked among the worst.

"Kali," whispered Luna, almost reverently. "The destroyer. The bane of both good and evil. The dark goddess."

"You think this is the one the villagers were supposed to worship?" asked Ron. Harry had been thinking much the same thing, but he didn't dare open his mouth, for fear of being sick.

"Yes, I think so," said Luna. She did not seem nearly as disgusted by the rotting flesh as Harry and Ron, more curious than anything else.

"Well, let's get a move on," she said brightly, "We can't be to far away." With that she left the clearing and the grisly statue. Harry followed her and Ron, trying not to look back. Eight people had been killed to adorn that statue, and it smelled fresh,

Whoever the killer was, they would most likely still be about.

Luna was right about one thing; they were close to Pankot Palace. As the noon sun hung above them, it illuminated the palace, in the distance. Pankot Palace was a sprawling complex, built from white stone, which positively shone in the bright sunlight. It was built in the style of other Indian buildings, like the Taj Mahal. Harry recognized the same onion domes atop its roof. Harry was awed; Pankot Palace was like something out of a fairy tale. It was hard to believe, now, that it was the source of some great evil.

"I think I know who it was that cursed the villagers," said Luna quietly. "I wasn't sure before, but that statue about seals it. Pankot Palace was once a place of activity for the Thuggee cult."

"The what?" asked Harry.

"Don't you know anything?"

"Well, yeah. Just not this kind of stuff. They don't teach that at Hogwarts."

"True, sorry. I'm just getting a bit tired of explaining myself. Anyway, the Thuggee cult was a brotherhood of dark wizards who worshiped the goddess Kali, taking her to be the origin of dark magic. They were mercenaries, as well as thieves and murderers. They would sacrifice their victims in secret ceremonies, spilling their blood on the alter in the name of their religion. Though all wizards, they still preferred to dispatch their enemies by strangulation, using a symbolic yellow scarf. It's from them that the word 'thug' originates.

"The Thuggee have been inactive since the 1850s. But I suppose they could have always survived in secret, or just been rebuilt from scratch."

"I take it that the Thuggee being rebuilt would be a bad thing."

"The worst. Especially with a Sankara stone under their power. Harry, that might mean the end of the world."

Pankot Palace grew even bigger and more impressive as they approached. The wide gates se into the white stone hung open. With no slight hesitation, the three of them passed through, walking abreast. Inside, there was a wide sunlit courtyard, empty.

"So, do we just ring the doorbell?" said Ron. There was no need to follow his suggestion, as just then a door across from them opened to reveal a single man, who walked across the courtyard toward them.

"Welcome to Pankot Palace,' said the man, "please do not be offended by my asking who on earth you are." The man was very obviously Indian, though his English was impeccable. He must have been about forty. He was short, about Luna's height, and wore a snappy dark blue suit. His black hair was as neat as the rest of him, his small dark eyes hidden behind wire-rimed spectacles, not unlike Harry's own.

"We're travelers, passing through," said Harry. "We thought we would stop to see who would live in such a beautiful palace." They had already decided on this story. They would say nothing of their names, previous lives, or especially their visit to Mayapore, not until they figured out what was happening at Pankot.

"Why, you're Harry Potter!" exclaimed the man; so much for that plan. "It is our pleasure to have such an esteemed guest. You must stay here for the night; the Maharajah will be very pleased to make your acquaintance.

"But I fear I forget my manners, I am Chatter Lal, Prime Minister to his highness Zalim Singh, Maharajah of Pankot. I recognize you Mr. Potter, I have followed your career with great interest, but of your companions I am less familiar."

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, skeptically, shaking Lal's hand.

"Ah yes, I believe I met your brother, Charlie Weasley, as he spent a short time here studying our indigenous dragons. He failed to mention you."

"Luna Lovegood," Luna introduced herself. Chatter Lal took her hand also. She seemed somewhat surprised, though not entirely displeased, when, instead of shaking it, he kissed it lightly.

"Now you I have heard of as well. If I remember correctly, you produce that inspired periodical, the Quibbler."

"Er, yes," Luna mumbled, even more surprised that he had called her magazine inspired, rather then a load of dung, as most people labeled it.

"Please, come inside. Servants will show you to your rooms, we always keep some available for occasions such as this. Your visit coincides with that of Mr. Blumbart, a man from the Indian ministry of magic, who is resting here before continuing his inspection of the land." Harry could tell from Lal's tone, that he was a great deal less thrilled by this than by Harry's own arrival.

"I recommend that you refresh yourselves. Tonight, you are invited, and requested, to dine with the Maharajah and his court."

The interior of Pankot Palace was as striking as the exterior, if not more so. The wide halls of clean stone were wonderfully cool after the heat outside. The walls were ordained with beautiful tapestries and murals. Harry made out many images of Shiva. Of the missing children, or symbols of the Thuggee, he found none. In actuality, the palace uncomfortably reminded him of Hogwarts, his first real home.

Chatter Lal left them in the custody of two servants, who wore plain red robes and looked to the floor, unspeaking. They led the three of them down so many identical halls and corridors that Harry became hopelessly lost. At last they came to their rooms. Luna disappeared into her own room, while Harry and Ron were brought to the room opposite. Harry was a little surprised that they were meant to share, but all doubts left his mind once he saw the room itself.

It was the largest bedroom Harry had ever seen. There were two giant beds, a long couch, and a handmade wood table with enough chairs to provide for the entire auror office. The connected bathroom was even more opulent, the massive bathtub inlaid with gold. Though Harry found the massive mural of a mythological scene, painted directly onto the wall, somewhat unnerving, he still had to admit that it was expertly rendered.

"Posh," said Ron, summing it all up in a single word.

"Yeah," said Harry, flopping onto the nearer bed, suddenly exhausted. He hadn't been in a bed that soft and comfortable since…maybe, never.

Though he found how easily they had been admitted somewhat suspicious, he was famous worldwide, whether he liked it or not. And though he wasn't sure whether or not he liked Chatter Lal personally, his politeness seemed genuine. It was hard to believe that he was in any way responsible for the abduction, imprisonment and abuse of a whole village worth of children. And as for severing someone's head…

Still, Harry reminded himself, he had yet to meet the Maharajah. And it was probably time to prepare.


	8. Chapter 8: Dinner Is Served

Chapter eight: dinner is served

The dining room was wide with a high ceiling and long table set to accommodate around twenty-four guests. More than half of these had already arrived by the time Harry and Ron entered the room. However they were in no ways late, as the seat at the end of the table, reserved for the Maharajah, was unoccupied.

Harry had shaved and showered, changing into slacks and a dark brown dinner jacket he had found in the room's stately wardrobe, they fit him perfectly. Ron had done much the same, though his jacket was gray.

Most of the guests were conversing in Hindi. They were, for the most part, wearing traditional Indian robes, complete with turbans.

Luna had already arrived, she had also washed and prepared, she wore a plain pearly white dress, with a gold circlet around her neck. She was the only woman at the table. Harry realized that she actually was rather pretty.

_Though she's no Ginny Weasley._

Harry was directed to a seat near the head of the table, he would be sitting at the Maharajah's left. Opposite him was Chatter Lal, who nodded in his direction. The Pankot Prime Minister had neglected to wear a turban, but still looked very Indian in a high-necked red robe. Beside Lal, sat Luna, who did not look completely pleased about the seating arrangement. Ron was placed on her other side.

Harry noticed that on his left sat a man he had not recognized before. He was slightly dumpy, with a kind face, balding head, and small mustache; he wore a modern suit, unlike most of the guests.

Seeing Harry's interest, Lal indicated the man, "This is Mr. Blumbart. The ministry man I told you about. Mr. Blumbart, this is-"

"Harry Potter," Blumbart finished for him, shaking Harry's hand vigorously. "I recognized him immediately. Great to meet you, I'll have to tell the wife about this. What brings you here?"

"Oh, I we were just passing through," Harry answered.

"Oh, well, I'm here on business, as usual."

"The Ministry of Magic sees fit to inspect us at random," said Chatter Lal coldly.

"Yes, well, I am just following orders, random inspection, you know. Anyway, I won't relay on your hospitality much longer, just another day or two while I finish my report."

"Yes, of course, a shame." Said Lal, making it obvious that he meant the exact opposite.

They conversation was cut short as a guard announced the arrival of his highness Zalim Singh, the Maharajah. Harry stood with the others. As the Maharajah entered the room, flanked by two bodyguards. Harry was just as surprised as Ron and Luna. The Maharajah was a child; he could no have been no more than eleven. He wore a red robe and matching turban, a shade lighter than his Prime Minister's. The Maharajah sat, and nodded once, signaling the start of the feast. Harry sat back down, four servants carried in along platter with the main dish.

Harry stared, as it was set before him, in the center of the table. It was a python, light green and several feet long, steaming as lay curled around a small pole.

"Snake surprise," Chatter Lal explained.

"What's the surprise," asked Luna, raising an eyebrow.

"This," Lal took a knife from the platter and sliced into the body of the snake. Wriggling black, snakelike creatures spilled out onto the table, carrying with them a great deal of slime. The snake had been filled with live eels.

"Consider me surprised," Harry raised an eyebrow.

The various guests filed their plates, as equally repulsive entrees were added to the main course. Ron palled as a plate of live spiders was placed before him. Both Harry and Ron declined all of the food that came their way, as did Mr. Blumbart. Luna, however, politely took a single eel. Harry watched her take small bite and, after a moment, secretly deposit it in her napkin.

Both the Maharajah and Chatter Lal ate only sparingly, though Harry doubted it was from distaste. If he were to get any information out of either of them, this was the time to do it.

"Hasn't Pankot Palace been deserted for nearly a hundred years?" he asked.

"Yes," said Lal, uninterested.

"So why come back now."

"We think it has been deserted long enough."

"Yes, well on the way here we passed through a village."

"How thrilling."

"Er, yes. Anyway, the villagers said that Pankot Palace was growing powerful again because of some ancient evil."

"How quaint," said Lal, but he refused to catch Harry's eye

"I thought so too," said Harry quietly, deciding he needed to be more careful. Glancing down the table, he smiled as he saw Ron refuse a plate of fried giant beetles, claiming he had had insects for breakfast.

"Not only that," said Harry, probing for a reaction. "But the muggles also claim that you have stolen something from them, a sacred stone."

"I do no know about your country," said Lal, glaring, "but in India it is considered rude to insult your hosts while dining with them."

"Of course, I apologize. I was just seeing what you thought of them."

"I think they are superstitious fools."

"I thought you would." Harry took the steaming tureen of soup as it was handed to him. Surely, there was no way they could have made this inedible. Harry lifted the lid, the heat steaming his glasses. Inside, the red-tinged soup seemed altogether innocent, until a blankly staring eyeball floated to the surface. Not wanting to know what the eye had come from, Harry quickly shut the lid, and passed it on.

"Too much salt," he said, in explanation.

"I have learned, through my research," said Mr. Blumbart, continuing Harry's line of questioning. "That Pankot was a hotbed for the Thuggee cult, during the eighteen-hundreds."

"The Thuggee cult has been greatly exaggerated," said Lal. "While it true that they practiced dark magic and worshipped the goddess of destruction, the British made them up as being a great deal worse, using them as an excuse during their years of unfair rule over India."

"According to my sources," said Harry. "As misunderstood as they might have been, the Thuggee would certainly qualify as an ancient evil." Across the table, Luna caught his eye and smiled, she knew precisely what his sources had been.

"Nevertheless, the Thuggee are extinct," Lal, protested.

"I too have heard the stories of the Thuggee cult," said the Maharajah, speaking for the first time. His voice was still high-pitched, not having changed yet. "At first I thought them only stories, told to frighten children into behaving. Now I know that the Thuggee cult was real, and did unspeakable things. I assure you that if the Thuggee have somehow survived these many decades, my palace, my court, and myself have nothing to do with their evil."

"If I have offended you, I am sorry," said Harry, impressed.

"Dessert," said Lal, appreciatively, as a goblet was set in front of him. Harry looked down at his own goblet. In it was the severed head of a primate, the top sliced of neatly to reveal the gray and pink gelatinous mass inside. "Chilled monkey brains, served in the original container."

This new dish proved too much for Ron, who ducked out of sight, his face green. Luna however, risked a small spoonful of the monkey's brain, and found it reasonably palatable. Harry noticed the men about her regarding her with new respect, it seemed that they were used to foreign guests refusing to sample their fare. Harry could see why, as he pushed his portion to the Maharajah, explaining that he was not at all hungry.

After a moment, Harry felt brave enough to return to the topic of the Thuggee. "On the way here," he said, "We also ran into a shrine, built to the goddess Kali."

"Yes," answered the Maharajah. "We have left some of those monuments intact, so that we may remember the evil of the Thuggee, and insure that we do not fall under their power again."

"But this shrine had sacrificed animals on it, a pool of blood. There were eight human heads hanging from it! You can't tell me you put those there as a reminder."

"I am afraid," said the Pankot Prime Minister, "that we have not removed all remains of the Thuggee's sacrifices from their worship sites.

"But the heads were fresh," Harry protested, feeling that he was onto something. "They could have been there a week, but not a hundred years."

"Please, Mr. Potter," said Chatter Lal, his spoon, filled with the gray Jell-O-like contents of the monkey's cranium, stopped between his mouth and the makeshift bowl. "Can you not tell that many of us here are eating? You would not wish to spoil our appetites."


	9. Chapter 9: A Visitor In The Night

Chapter nine: a visitor in the night

"Dunno about you, but I'm even hungrier than I was before," said Ron. "I'm going to go down to the kitchens, see if I can find some real food. You want to come."

"No, I'll stay. Bring me some though."

"Alright" Ron left, leaving Harry alone in the bedroom. Harry sighed and fell backward onto the bed. He remembered that the servants had cautioned them to stay in there rooms. "Pankot is not the same at night," they had said, "best to stay hidden."

Still, Harry felt that he was rapidly losing the trail of the Sankara stones; the conversation at dinner had only helped to seal that. If there was evil at the heart of Pankot Palace, Harry felt that the Maharajah had no part in it. Of Chatter Lal, Harry had no such doubts.

Still, he had one night, if he were going to find the villager's children's well as their sacred stone. Harry didn't like the odds.

Harry got up and crossed to the dresser, he realized that, assuming Pankot Palace had the necessary animal and materials, he could send an owl to the Ministry, explaining their absence, as well as the villager's plight. But after fifteen minutes of searching, he had found no owl, or even quill, ink and parchment.

As Harry was going through the chest of drawers, wondering why he was looking there, as who on earth would keep their owl in a chest of drawers, he missed something very important. The room had no window, so it was lit by a ball of magic light, inside a lantern. Though this worked well enough, it left the corners of the room in shadow. However, since Harry's turn, one of the silhouetted figures would have proved a bit more three-dimensional than the others. Not to mention that it was breathing lightly.

Harry was about to give up in his search, when something was quickly looped around his neck from behind, pulled tight. It was a yellow scarf. Harry had not known to take a last deep breath, so his lungs quickly deflated. He tore at the scarf around his neck, but it stayed fast, secured by the assassin behind him. Harry decided that this was definite proof that there was something wrong at Pankot Palace; however, the only problem was he might not live long enough to discover the source.

Harry twisted suddenly, yanking his attacker of their feet, and then rammed them back into the wall. He heard a grunt of pain, so he tried it again. Though this was in no means comfortable for the assassin, it did not unhinge them to let go, or even loosen their grip.

Groping, Harry's fingers found a small table. Grabbing it with one hand, he summoned all his strength, and smashed it over, what he believed to be, his attacker's head. The scarf loosened, just for a second, and Harry managed to slip out of it. After stumbling away from the wall, he turned to face the assassin.

It was a woman, which surprised Harry slightly. She wore dark clothing, with a red sash around her waist. There was blood-red body paint on her face, twirling into an ornate design that meant nothing to Harry. What interested him most were her eyes. Though they were a normal brown shade, but there was something else about them. They were not blank; she was no victim of the imperious curse. In fact, there seemed to be an extra intelligence in her eyes. Something evil.

The assassin dropped her scarf, pulling a wand from her sleeve. So his attacker was magical, this gave Harry even more to think about. He had a much more unpleasant thought, as he realized that his wand had been set on a bedside table a few yards away.

Harry dived across the bed, as an orange spell tore through the air beside him, singing his hair. He ducked by the bed, snatched up his wand, and rolled to his feet.

_"Stupefy!"_

_ "Protego!" _she blocked easily.

_"Petrificus," _she sidestepped the spell. And retaliated with a nonverbal curse that set Harry's right arm swelling uncontrollably. He returned it to normal with a few taps of his wand, but this made him unable to react in time to the next spell. The jet of purple light hit him in the chest, blasting him back off his feet, to slam into the wall.

Advancing on him, she raised her wand. Around her, the room tore itself apart. Above her, the ceiling fan tore free, plaster fell from the ceiling. The beds collapsed, the mattresses torn. The various tables and chairs lifted into the air and where hurled at Harry. He rolled to the left to avoid the chest of drawers he had been searching through moments earlier.

Time for my signature spell, he thought dryly.

_"Expeliarmus!"_

The assassin's wand was torn form her grip, flying across to the room to fall behind a long couch that had been inching toward Harry. Harry got to his feet. The woman crouched, her stance ready for battle, but she did not move. Harry held her at wand point.

"Who are you," he said at last. "Why were you sent to kill me"?

"My name is not important," she whispered. Her voice was cold and emotionless, still not imperiosed, but something similar. "And you are an enemy of the mother."

"Do you mean Kali? Are you Thuggee?"

"I know of no such title, I serve the mother, and I obey"

"Do you know about any kidnapped children, or maybe sacred stones?"

"I will give you no more information. You may kill me now, but the mother will find you." She smiled after that, her teeth were stained with red, her voice taking on a note of joy, the first emotion Harry had caught. "And you are damned." Harry felt that she didn't mean that just in the swearing terms.

"I won't kill you," Harry sighed, lowering his wand.

"Then you are an enemy of the mother." Suddenly she was in the air, leaping toward him, a look of utter loathing on her reddened face.

The magic reacted before Harry did. A blast of white energy slammed into her. She was thrown across the room, to fall limply, blood trickling down her face. It took Harry a few minutes to realize that she was dead, by his hand. Though people had definitely died before, from his actions. But this was the closest he had come to the killing curse, and he hadn't even meant for it to happen.

Harry slipped out into the hall. If he was going to free the children and find the stone before the night was up, there was little time to waste. Harry saw no one, as he snuck quietly down the corridor. Though he had not learned much from his would-be assassin, Harry remembered that the Thuggee had used yellow scarves on their victims. Just like the one she had used. This was too much of a coincidence, the cult had to be responsible somehow.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed quietly (which is difficult) as he came into view. He was carrying a plate heaped with fruits of various shapes and styles. "So, what's up mate," he said throwing an apple to Harry. Harry caught it, but didn't eat; he had recently lost his hunger.

"There's a dead woman in our room."

"What? Not again…"

"No really. She tried to kill me, but she got the worst of it. I think she's Thuggee."  
>"You have all the fun," said Ron, though Harry knew he was joking. Then, "Wait, if they came for you…"<p>

"Luna," said Harry, and broke into a run. Behind him Ron dropped the plate, which clattered conspicuously. It's not like it'll really make a difference, Harry thought.

Luna's room was unlocked. Harry wrenched it open after a few seconds of hammering on the door. Inside, it was similar to Harry and Ron's room. Though it was smaller, and had only one bed, it was still very posh. Luna herself was not to be seen.

Harry and Ron searched the room for hidden assassins, finding none. Luna arrived, about as they were finishing up. She still wore her dress from dinner, though she wore a jacket over it.

"Odd, for you to visit," she said. "I was just at your room. It's very untidy, more so than I expected."

"Yes, well," said Harry. "Where else did you go?"

"I went to see Mr. Blumbart."

"And how is he."

"I don't know. He's gone, and so is all his luggage and such."

"Was his room trashed?" asked Harry.

Luna shook her head, "No, it seemed to be in order.

"But, can you tell me why those flowers are bending, if there's no wind." She pointed to indicate the vase on a table in the corner. She was right; the flowers in it were indeed blown by some unseen wind. And there was no window for it to be coming from.

Harry walked to the table, to get a closer look. As he neared, he did feel a bit of a cold draft.

"There must be a secret passage," he realized. "And judging by how the flowers are blowing, it has to be coming from there." He pointed at a scene of statues cut into the wall. However, after a quick examination, he found no entrance to any secret passage, or anything that indicated one.

"It has to be coming from here," he said to himself. "But the wall…"

"What if the wall didn't exist in the first place," said Ron. Motioning for Harry to move, he stood directly in front of the wall.

_"Alahamorha." _

At Ron's spell, the wall seemed to melt away, revealing a dark space behind it.

"That was brilliant," said Harry, "How'd you know about that."

Ron shrugged. "One way illusions, I saw George working on them for the shop."

Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Harry took a few steps into the newly revealed space. It was a manmade tunnel, which sloped downward until it turned right some twenty yards along.

Harry also saw, by the entrance: a small picture painted on the wall. Though not identical, it was very similar to that picture that had been painted on the cloth Luna had been given by the escaped child. Everything was coming together.

"Let's go get our stuff," said Harry, "we have some exploring to do."


	10. Chapter 10: Down The Tunnel

Chapter ten: down the tunnel

Harry spent as little time as possible in their, now demolished, room. Most of all, he tried to avoid looking at the assassin's body, which still lay crumpled in the corner. Luna was waiting for them when they arrived. Like Harry and Ron, she had changed into an outfit more suitable for creeping down ancient tunnels.

"Stay behind me," said Harry, taking up the post of leader without thought. "And touch nothing." Harry led the way, realizing that out of the three of them, he had the most experience with this sort of thing.

The stonewalls of the tunnel flickered under their wand light. Luna, bringing up the rear, unconsciously used her hand to guide herself along the wall. Until, after she leaned on a certain section, the stone wall crumble inward, to reveal a small room. Laying spread out on the floor were two skeletons, dressed in rags, picked clean by the years.

"You're just as bad as Ginny! Didn't I say not to touch anything?" said Harry behind her.

"Sorry, what do you think happened to them?" she said, much more interested in the uncovered skeletons then in apologizing.

"Buried alive, I think. Back when the Thuggee were active."

"Look, are we going to follow the tunnel or not?" asked Ron. The group moved on.

After the tunnel turned to the right, it evened out a bit, and grew less well kept. Slime dripped down the walls, and something crunched beneath their feet at every step. Harry glanced down to see that, in the fain light of his wand, it appeared that the floor was moving.

"What…" he crouched, to get a closer look. The floor of the tunnel was covered with insects. All kinds of insects, all of them huge. Centipedes that were nearly a foot long, beetles the size of his thumb, all mixing with creatures he didn't even recognize.

"Fascinating," Luna whispered, "I thought fanged Tonsil beetles were extinct." Ron, however, made a sound somewhat like a lawn mower giving up the ghost. From a look back, Harry discerned that his childhood fear of spiders extended to similar creatures. Ron retreated to the turn of the tunnel, kicking off the bugs that had climbed onto his boots.

Bugs swarmed over Harry's feet, crawling up his legs. He beat them off with his hands, but more rushed up to take their place. Beside him, Luna was having much the same problem, stamping her feet in an odd sort of dance that was fairly effective at displacing the insects.

Harry stepped forward, and was surprised at how difficult it was. The insects began swarming him in earnest. If he were to fall now, they would completely cover him, devouring him alive.

Harry realized that if they spent much more time in the tunnel, they would never leave. Ahead of them was a doorway. Checking to make sure that Luna was following him, Harry sprinted for it, flinging bugs away from him as he went, crunching many more under his feet.

He, with Luna close behind, made it through the doorway, trailing bugs behind him. They were in a circular room, which, oddly enough, was free of insects, discounting those they had brought with them. What the chamber did have was a skeleton; a skeleton that had been flattened.

"Odd," Luna whispered, brushing her fingers along the stone. The instant she connected with it, a stone slab slid down at the far end of the chamber, blocking the way forward. Harry darted back the way they had come, but another stone wall fell into place, blocking the way back. Harry beat at it, but it held fast.

"I don't like the look of this," said Luna.

Harry laughed without humor, "It's going to get a lot worse."

He was right, of course. After a moment's pause, the grinding began. Moving on hidden tracks, the roof of the chamber began to slowly inch downward. But simply crushing the intruders was not enough. From small holes in the floor and ceiling, long, metal spikes rose. The skeleton was pulled into a sitting position as a spike protruded through its ribcage. Luna dodged out of the way, as one rose beneath her, cutting into her leg. She joined Harry at the edge of the chamber, where the spikes were fewer.

Harry shot a spell at the far exit, but instead of shattering the rock, as it was intended to, it rebounded, deflected off the magically protected stones, bouncing about the chamber, almost hitting Harry.

There was no way out, no way of surviving. But the Thuggee must have had at least on way of escape built, right?

"Ron," Harry shouted through the doorway.

"You go on ahead, I'll go see if there's anything back in the palace."

"We need you. The room's closing in, with spikes."

"That's not good."

"Exactly, come over here. There's got to be a release lever just outside."

"But-"

"They're not spiders, Ron" said Harry, though he guessed that there probably were some arachnids mixed in. "We're going to die."

"Alright, I'm coming." Steeling himself, Ron ran thought he bug-filled tunnel as fast as he could, crunching hundreds underfoot. At the end he took a moment to brush the insects from his legs, shuddering.

Inside the spike room, Luna reached out between the spikes, grabbing the flattened skull. Harry took it from her, and jammed into the crack around the edge of the ceiling. The ceiling slowed for a moment, then returned to its normal speed as the human skull was crushed beneath its massive rollers.

"Hurry up," Harry shouted, much to anxious to be polite.

Ron took this advice to heart. Before him, in the wall beside the slab of stone, were two holes drilled into the stone. Ron took the cleaner one, on the left, his finger closed around a small lever. Ron pulled it, and it clicked with finality.

Inside, the roof doubled its pace. Harry and Luna were forced to their knees, as the ceiling pressed down on them. Harry found himself forced lower and lower as he tried to hold up the ceiling with all his strength.

"Wrong one," Luna shouted out to Ron. He nodded, and turned his attention to the other hole, one that seemed much less free of insects. By now, Ron was covered with bugs; they crawled up his legs, over his shoulders, into his hair.

After knocking a beetle from his face, Ron gritted his teeth. He plunged his arm up to the shoulder into the hole. More insects, nested inside, crawled over his hand and arm, sinking their fangs into it in desperate bid to save their homes. Swearing, Ron found another lever. Rusted from age, it took all his strength to pull it down. It did so, with another click.

The effect was immediate. Inside the spike room, the ceiling returned to its original height. The metal spikes receded into the floor and ceiling. Lastly, the stone barriers at both the entrance and exit of the room slid back where they came from. Harry got to his feet, panting; he took care not to touch the walls.

Ron stumbled into the room, shaking of the hundreds of insects that still clung to him. As he tried to rid himself of them, he hurled a long centipede away, where it hit the wall. With a grinding of gears, the ceiling began to drop, the spikes began to rise, to whole process was restarted.

Harry darted after Ron and Luna. He was the last one out, as the stone slab at the chambers exit slammed into the floor.

"No way back through there," he said, getting to his feet.

"Still, we made it. Because of you," Luna made a move to hug Ron, seeing that he was still covered with insects, she hugged Harry instead. And then used her wand to heal the cut she had received in the spike chamber, which had been dripping blood down her leg through the whole ordeal.

"Thanks Ron," Harry sighed. Now he saw that they were in another tunnel. This one was natural, stalactites and stalactites hanging down and up around them. There was no sign of more traps or insects. However, from far down the tunnel, there came a faint flickering light. Accompanied by the sound of drumming.

"Only one way to go now," said Harry. "We'll just have to find another way out."

Though he didn't say it aloud, Harry had a distinct feeling that the missing children, the Sankara stones, and the Thuggee were all waiting for him at the end of this tunnel.

He was right.


	11. Chapter 11: The Temple Of Doom

Chapter eleven: the temple of doom

As Harry, Ron and Luna proceeded down the tunnel, both the flickering light and the sound of drums became more prominent. Harry became more and more curious, and scared, about whatever was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel.

They reached the end of the tunnel after fifteen minutes. By now Ron had rid himself completely of insects, and had done his best to heal the small injuries they had inflicted on him. As the sight came into view, Harry resisted the urge to swear.

The tunnel led them out onto an empty stone balcony, overlooking a huge underground cavern. Luna motioned for them to get down, out of view. So the trio lay out on their stomachs, peeking over the edge of the balcony to look over the sight below.

The main floor of the cavern was filled with people, about two hundred. The chanting, as well as the drumming, was coming from them. The men were bare-chested, wearing black trousers and red body paint, black scarves around their heads. A third of the host gathered were women. Much more fully dressed, the women were adorned similar to Harry's assassin, in dark clothing with red sashes around their waists and equally red designs painted on their faces.

There was a chasm in the floor, before the end of the chamber. Across the chamber was a platform, carved from dark brown stone, separated from the assembled people by the dark abyss. The platform was lit by two braziers of fire at each end. There was also a wide trapdoor, currently shut, set into the stone floor, at the statue's feet.

The statue was by far the most striking object in the room. Though Harry realized it was to a representation of Kali, it was very different from the hideous shrine he had stumbled upon earlier that day. It felt like so long ago. The statue was twenty feet tall, and carved in deep relief from shiny black stone. It was of a woman who was beautiful, terrible and otherworldly at the same time. Her face was so expertly carved that Harry half expected to see her speak, acknowledging her worshipers. Her mouth twisted into a smile, revealing row upon row of shark-like teeth. Her eyes were slits of blood-red ruby, her stone hair billowing out around her. Of her four shapely arms, her upper right held a long curved sword; her upper left the severed head of some grimacing demon, contrasting the goddess's beauty. Her lower two arms were outstretched over the platform, chains hanging from her grip. Connected to the chains sat a sort of metal frame, Harry felt all too sure that it was meant to confine human sacrifices. Though the goddess wore no clothing, she was adorned with the remains of the Thuggee's many victims. A necklace of human skulls hung down upon her chest, another bound about her waist. A rotting corpse hung from each ear.

Though Harry did not know it, the stone likeness bore a strong resemblance to the Angel of Death. The spirit of destruction who had been called down from heaven less than a year ago. During her two minutes on Earth, she had caused the horrible deaths of over fifty men, nearly including Harry himself.

At the statue's feet stood an alter, shaped like a giant skull. Glowing rocks sat in alcoves in its eyes and nose. They each glowed with an inner light. They looked out of place, something of pure good surrounded by so much evil.

Harry nudged Luna beside him. "The Sankara stones, three of them, at least." He whispered. She nodded.

"This is a Thuggee temple," Luna whispered. "They're worshipping the goddess right now. No one's seen anything like this for a hundred years." She sounded awed. Harry just felt sick.

"If it's all the same to you," came Ron's whispered reply, "I think I could have gone without."

Then all conversation was quickly forgotten, as the ceremony began.

A single man appeared on the alter, surrounded by a jet of smoke. He was imposing, not only because he was he larger and broader than any of the other Thuggee priests who had filed out onto the platform to stand behind him, but because of the aura of darkness around him, an aura that Harry could feel from his place on the balcony. He wore robes of blood-red cloth. On his head was the skull of a bison, gleaming white under the flames, which glinted in the black stone of the statue. Set into the center of the skull was a ruby, carved in the shape of a human skull. Though it was not said aloud, Harry felt no doubt that this was the high priest of the Thuggee (the man, not the ruby).

The high priest raised his arms to his multitude. In return, the chanted louder, repeating two Hindi words in time with the drums. Though Luna did not lean over to translate, Harry had a sick feeling that he understood them perfectly.

The chanting was joined by terrified screams, as two priests came foreword, carrying between them a struggling Indian man. Dressed only in only a loincloth, the man was terrified, fighting against his captors with all his strength. But they still held him fast.

The screaming man was brought to the metal frame, hanging from the goddess's hands. He was bound to it, metal shackles closing over his wrists and ankles, till he was unable to move. Harry watched as the high priest stepped foreword. Drawing a wand from somewhere in his robe, the high priest whispered spells as he waved it in intricate patterns over the man's figure.

When he had finished, the priest replaced his wand, and plunged his hand into the man's chest. Harry watched, fascinated and horrified. There was no blood, and when the priest drew out his hand, all that was left was a red mark on his victim's chest, the wound sealed.

Then Harry realized that the man's heart was clutched in the priest's raised hand. It was still beating; blood trickling down his muscular arm, and the man was, inexplicitly, still living.

The trapdoor slid open beneath the metal frame. Below in was a pit filled with magical blue flame. The man began to scream again as he was lowered slowly into the pit, this time in pain. Blue flames danced over the raised heart, as its owner disappeared from view.

The high priest allowed the agony of the sacrifice to continue for a few more minutes and then, stretching forth his arm, he crushed the man's heart in his sizable fist. The screaming stopped. The chanting halted.

As the men and woman filled out of the main chamber, the high priest slipped through a hidden door behind the statue. Harry watched mesmerized as the metal cage was hoisted back up. There was no sign of the sacrificial victim, save for dripping blood, and a few bones still held in the viselike grip of the shackles.

Before long, the chamber was empty. But still Harry lay there, staring.

"Come on," Ron whispered, nudging him. "We have to get out of here."

Harry shook his head. "I can't. Not yet. I'm not leaving without those stones." He gestured at the three Sankara stones, placed in the giant stone skull at the other side of the room.

"Are you out of your bloody mind," Ron hissed. "We have to go, now." Behind him, Luna caught Harry's eye, she understood.

"Look," Harry protested. "Just stay here. I'll be back in ten minutes, if everything goes according to plan."

Not that it ever does.


	12. Chapter 12: The Sankara Stones

Chapter twelve: the Sankara stones

Trying not to give too much thought to what he was doing, Harry eased himself over the railing of the balcony. The chamber below was now deserted, but Harry still felt that he needed to get the stones as quickly as possible, before he encountered any of the Thuggee. Harry planted his feet on a narrow ledge that stretched the length of the chamber. He gave what he felt was a reassuring smile to Ron and Luna, and began to inch foreword.

Twice he stumbled. The first time he tripped, barely managing to keep his place atop the ledge. Much more slowly, he continued on, trying not to look down. At last Harry made it across the chasm, and was looking down on the alter. Harry's plan was to somehow climb down the statue of Kali. Things did not go quite as planned.

Suddenly, the weakened ledge gave way beneath Harry. He fell in a cloud of dust and shattered rock. Harry snatched for a demonic statue that had been set into the wall beneath him, but only managed to cut his hand on the sharpened stone. He landed badly, twisting his ankle, but Harry quickly remedied that with his wand.

He only hoped that no one had heard the collapse.

Ron and Luna watched Harry's progress with bated breath. Luna even let out a small gasp as Harry fell twenty feet to the alter. Therefore, they did not hear or notice the five black-clad men that slipped onto the balcony behind them. Not until they had been stunned.

Harry crossed to the stone skull, between the goddess's bare stone feet. It was here he got his first good look at the Sankara stones. All three looked similar, but not identical. They were shaped like a football, each about a foot long. The stones were made of vaguely transparent diamond, cut smoothly. Three sloping lines were carved across each of them, to represent the three layers of existence, Harry remembered. Each of the stones glowed with a light from somewhere deep inside. This was what set each of the stone apart; one had a blue-tinged glow, another green, and the third red. The glow within was so beautiful and otherworldly that for a second Harry was able to believe that the Sankara were not of this Earth, but came from a different, better place.

Harry did not know which Sankara stone, if any, had belonged to the villagers, so he choose the red one. It was warm in his grip, a comforting feeling. Harry tucked the stone inside his shirt, and glanced around. He could no longer see Ron and Luna waiting for him on the balcony. He could also see no way back up to the balcony where they awaited.

At random, Harry chose one of the many tunnels that branched away, leading off of the platform where a sacrifice had just been made. Remembering the sacrifice, Harry glanced at the metal frame hanging from the statue's grip. It was splattered with blood, gleaming in the flickering light of the braziers.

Harry tore his gaze away, feeling a sudden need to vomit. He darted down the tunnel he had selected. It twisted and turned and branched until Harry felt completely lost. He met no one, and heard no one, until he came out onto yet another balcony.

He was overlooking a vast chamber, much greater than the one he had just left. Against his skin, the Sankara stone became all the more warm, it had ceased glowing, as it was taken further and further away from its sister stones.

Harry had come out above a large mine, carved into the rock by hand. The air was thick with coal dust, filling his lungs. Cries and grunts from the workers echoed about. This was masked somewhat by the throbbing grind of a crusher, to massive stone wheels turning at the end of a conveyor belt, crossing rock to dust. Mine carts were filled with rocks cut from the walls, and guided to the crusher by slaves. Especially small slaves. Harry realized that the workers were children. Covered with dirt and blood, bent over with the strain, the oldest miner couldn't have been more than twelve.

He had found the kidnapped children of Mayapore.

The slave children did not toil unsupervised. They were watched by numerous large Thuggee men. Harry watched one of the children, a girl, hardly more than a toddler, stumble while pushing a mine cart. Her fellow workers urged her to get up, but she did not. A guard appeared behind them, one of the children began speaking rapidly in Hindi. The guard bellowed in anger, and raised his wand.

_"Crucio!" _

At least five children around the guard shrieked and writhed on the ground as the unforgivable curse took affect. Harry had seen enough, he was too angry to contemplate what he would do next.

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _

The spell flew true, slamming into the guard. The Thuggee slave driver fell on his face, slamming into the rough stone floor, immobilized. Immediately, the children were released from the pain of the curse. However, everyone down below, slave and slave driver, looked up to stare at Harry.

Cursing his stupidity, Harry turned and ran back down the tunnel. A few jinxes impacted the balcony behind him. Harry followed the twisting turns of the tunnel with no idea where he was or where he was going.

After a few minutes of running, he slowed to a stop, leaning against the wall. Panting, Harry tried to recap what he had seen. So far, the Thuggee were guilty of theft, kidnapping, child abuse, and the use of an unforgivable curse. Worse than that, Harry could see no way of bringing them to justice.

"Greetings, Harry Potter." Harry opened his eyes to see that the tunnel was barred on both sides by Thuggee, all of whom had their wands pointed directly at him. Worst of all, he recognized the man in front of him. Though he now wore clothing much less fine, the simple black of the other Thuggee, there was no mistaking Chatter Lal.

"No hope of a quiet surrender," Harry sighed.

"No," Lal replied, "most definitely not.

"_Stupefy!"_


	13. Chapter 13: High Priest Of The Thuggee

Chapter thirteen: high priest of the Thuggee

When Luna Lovegood awoke, she was laying on a cold wet floor of plain black stone. After a moment of confusion, everything came back to her, the tunnel, the spike room, the Thuggee ceremony. And now she had been captured, stunned from behind. She figured this was the sort of thing that happened to Harry all the time.

Though Luna had received minor cuts and bruises from her captors being less than gentle, she was overall fine. The worst part was that her wand had been taken. Luna realized that the strange new ring of rough metal around her ankle was connected to a chain, which was in turn set into the wall. Instinctively, she tugged at it, but to no effect.

Luna, realizing she was there to stay, surveyed her surroundings. The room was bare, carved into the rock. There was no cot, no toilet, not even a ragged blanket. There was a wooden door set into the wall; the room's biggest source of light was the miniscule crack around it. She saw no sign of Ron or Harry.

"Angel." Luna jumped. She realized that there was indeed another occupant in the chamber. As it moved closer, she got a better look. It was a child, a boy, very young. He spoke in the same Hindi dialect as the people of Mayapore, and Luna suspected he was one of their children. He was dressed in a single piece of ragged cloth, and Luna could tell that he had been beaten. His eyes were white with recently acquired blindness.

"Um, no I'm not an angel. Some have said otherwise though," she said, quietly.

"I pray to Shiva. I pray that I die, he send an angel to bring to the afterlife?"

"No. Sorry to disappoint you. But I am sent by your village elders. My friends and I will set you free, and the stones too, though how on earth we're supposed to do it is beyond me." Luna couldn't remember if the Hindi faith incorporated angels, but she felt now was not the time to mention it.

"I fight the demons, they hurt me, hurt my friends, but still I fight. I escape, they catch me, but my brother get away. I am punished, they hurt me more, but it will be worse."

"Go on."

The boy was overcome with a fit of coughing, but when he regained control he continued. "The will make me drink the blood of Kali. When you drink you live, and you die. Make living a nightmare, worse than death. Nightmare that you never wake up."

When Harry regained consciousness, he was tied to a wooden chair with magical ropes. His wand had been taken, but he was unhurt overall. He was in a low room carved into the rock, lit by flaming torches. Directly across from him was a statue of Kali, in her beautiful yet vengeful form. Similar to the one in the temple, but a great deal smaller. At the base of the statue were set three of the Sankara stones, glowing at their proximity to each other. One of them the one Harry had almost managed to steal.

"Welcome," said Ron Weasley, "it's not much, but it's where I woke up."

Ron was next to Harry. He was restrained in a similar manner.

"So they got you too?"

"Looks like it.

"Where's Luna?"

"No clue. She was with me until we got stunned."

That was when the high priest of the Thuggee entered the room.

Harry had, until then, only seen him from far away. Upon a closer look, Harry recognized a few things he had missed before. The high priest was a large man, tall and broad-shouldered. He stood a head taller than Harry. His eyes were black. He wore the same robe he had worn during the ceremony, colored like dried blood. He had removed the skull headpiece from his cranium, and his shaved head was traced with intricate patterns of red paint, or, Harry realized, they may have been something rather more permanent. Harry realized that while this man very clearly met the Thuggee profile, he was not Indian.

"My name is Mola Ram," said the high priest. Harry now recognized his accent, the man was American.

"Not exactly a traditional name, not for a American," said Ron.

"That is correct Mr. Weasley, my name, as with many other things about me, was changed when I came to this calling. Nevertheless, you have been discovered trying to steal the Sankara stones. This is unacceptable."

"You're going to kill me, I suppose," said Harry. "You wouldn't be the first. But I'll tell you what else, you'll fail. I'm going to escape, I'm going to take your stones, I'm going to set free those kids you kidnapped, and I'm going to destroy this whole little cult of yours before you can say your last prayers to that demon of yours, your goddess who doesn't even exist."

"Me too," said Ron.

"When I first came to India, I felt much the same way as you did," said Mola Ram. "I was only interested in the legend of the Sankara stones. I already had hold of one, it had been passed through my family for generations, father to son, mother to daughter, always giving success and luxury. But I knew there was more to the sivalinga than fortune and glory, there was power.

"At first, I did not believe in Kali. The primitive wizards here saw me as the firstborn of the goddess, as their savior, if you like. I saw the Thuggee only as a tool. Yet over the years I have led them, I have come to know and love the destroyer for all her terrible beauty.

"It did not take us long to acquire a second Sankara stone. We set up our new place of worship in the caverns beneath Pankot palace. My associate Chatter Lal manipulates the new maharajah, to keep the attention of certain parties away from the disappearances and murders that have increased dramatically in the surrounding area.

"The third stone was easily taken from small village called Mayapore, they had no idea what they had in their hands. In Mayapore, we also found an incredible resource. The Thuggee are strong in spirit, but our numbers are still lacking. The children provide labor. They dig for diamonds to support our cause, but they also search for the remaining two Sankara stones. They were hidden deep blow the palace by a loyal priest, during the British occupation.

"When I…when we, have all five Sankara stones in our possession, the Thuggee will be invincible. Our power will swell, and we will be able to cover the Earth with the knowledge and truth of our faith."

"Never very interesting, were you?" said Harry. The priest ignored him.

"I know and have practiced the imperious curse," said Mola Ram, "but I find it cumbersome. Thankfully, I have discovered a potion that will make the drinker both loyal and appreciative, for those more reluctant to give their service to the goddess."

Behind him, another person entered the room. Harry realized it was the Maharajah. The boy now wore black robes, and from the cruel expression on his young face, it was hard to recognize him. In his hands, the Maharajah carried a human skull, steam issuing from it.

"Mr. Weasley first, I recommend," Mola Ram suggested, differentially. "Harry Potter's 'best mate' will make a perfect servant of the goddess."

More guards entered the room. Harry watched helplessly as the grabbed Ron, holding him despite his struggling as the Mola Ram took the skull from the boy and approached him. Inside the skull was a thick dark liquid. This was no potion Harry had learned in school, it appeared to be blood based, instead of water.

The guards held Ron's head still. Mola Ram tipped the skull over Ron's mouth, but the potion slid past his tight lips. The drops that entered Ron's mouth, he spit out over his captors.

"Perhaps a bit more encouragement," suggested Mola Ram, signaling to the Maharajah. "Are you familiar with kryta, never mind, you soon will be."

The Maharajah produced a small roughly woven straw figure. Harry could make out the glasses and lightning bolt painted on its face.

Grinning all the more, the Maharajah took a torch from the wall. With a moment's hesitation, for intimidations sake, the boy thrust the doll into the flames. Immediately, burning pain overcame Harry's body. He thrashed in his chair, but there was no escape. It felt as though he was inside an inferno, he could feel the flames liking at his body. While his clothing remained whole, smoke curled from Harry's hair, his skin began to darken.

"I suggest you hurry, Ronald Weasley," said Mola Ram, speaking as if from far away, "otherwise, he may not lack serious harm."

And then the pain was gone. Harry slumped, panting. Beside him, Ron slumped also, he was unconscious. Dark liquid trickling from between his lips. He had given in.

"A wise choice on his part," Mola Ram explained.

"Where's Luna?"

"Ms. Lovegood is unharmed. I have not yet decided what to do with her. Which is more than can be said for you."

"What do you want with me?"

"Let me begin from the beginning. When you arrived at Pankot, it as certainly suspicious, your visits coinciding with that of Mr. Blumbart."

"That was a coincidence."

"Yes, I believe that now. When Chatter Lal informed me that we had Harry Potter in our company, I was doubtful, to say the least. Still, you begin to question most rudely, and accurately, at dinner. It became necessary to remove you.

"I sent one of my best assassins, and you murdered her. In fact, among the female membership, I was especially fond of her. This now gave a reason to truly hate you. You had surpassed simple strangulation as an option.

"To add insult to injury, you also nearly managed to steal one of the sacred stones. Still, despite what you have done, you are very popular. You alone vanquished Lord Voldemort, the greatest disciple the dark goddess ever had, though I doubt he was aware of it.

"I think," said Mola Ram, smiling all the more evilly. "That it would be especially fitting if the boy who lived, became the next sacrifice to the destroyer."


	14. Chapter 14: The Chosen Sacrifice

Chapter fourteen: the chosen sacrifice

They came for the boy much later. It was only a single guard. He had not been expecting trouble.

Luna was tired and hungry to the point that it hurt, but she knew that escape was her first priority. It took her over an hour, but she was able to, excruciatingly slowly, slip her bare foot out of the shackle. The boy had watched in silence, staring blankly. When she had finished, her foot was bruised, blood trickling from a half dozen scratches, but she was free.

When the guard opened the wooden door, he was on orders to take the boy inside. He would be forced to drink the blood of Kali, and would then be set to work. The slaves who drank the blood were not only stronger, but also worked constantly, with no need to stop for water or sleep, until they literally died of exhaustion. They were like machines set on autopilot.

The guard had been expecting to see the woman slumped in the corner, perhaps asleep. However, when he opened the door, he saw no sign of her. This was what Luna had been counting on.

A second after the Thuggee guard stepped into the cell, she dived at his legs, grabbing him around the knees, using as much force as she could summon. The man lost his balance, and landed heavily on the stone floor.

Luna had hoped that he would be knocked out by the initial impact. These hopes where dashed as he rolled over, crushing her beneath his weight, as he scrambled in his pocket for his wand. She fought, kicking out, driving her fists into his stomach and torso. Scrabbling at his face with her fingernails.

The guard grabbed and handful of her hair, tearing some out as her slammed her face into the stone floor. Luna grabbed his arm, and sank her teeth into his fist, tasting blood.

The man kicked out, catching her in the chest, driving her breath away. He rolled away, climbing to his feet as he pulled out his wand. Pointing it at her, the young woman who lay limply on the floor, bleeding and bruised. The captain of the guard had made his orders clear, no prisoner, no matter how important, could be spared after attacking their captors.

He would have killed her too, uttered the killing curse, had not the small boy who had been hidden in the shadows leapt onto his back, stuffing a handful of dirt and grit into his eyes. Howling in pain, the guard dropped his wand, and Luna snatched it up, using it to stun its owner.

"Find a way out," she told the boy, speaking in Hindi. "Make it back to your village. I'm going to go save the rest of you." He seemed to understand, and darted off down the hallway.

Luna tiptoed down the cell-lined corridor, holding the stolen wand out in front of her at a ready position. She met no one. Once out of the corridor, the corridor opened out into the huge mine cavern Harry had seen from above. Luna crouched behind some wooden barrels, scanning for a way out. The rock dust hung in the air; it filled her lungs and lined the back of her through, making it feel as if she had suddenly gained some degree of asthma. She tried to ignore the crack of the whips and the agonizing scream of the suffering children. Their time would come; first she had to get to Harry. Wherever he was.

A movement out in the cavern caught her attention. One of the Thuggee guards had stumbled and fallen. His outstretched arm had falling into one of the many magical lanterns that lit the huge open space, shattering it. He screamed as the flames danced over his hand. They were screams of fear and confusion. As he stumbled to his feet. The man seemed to have no idea where he was or what he was doing in such a hellish environment.

The confused guard broke into a run, shoving both enslaved children and their captors out of the way as he made for the nearest way out of the cavern. Realizing what had happened to him, a fellow guard reached for his wand. There was a flash of green light, and the man fell to the ground, sending up an almost comical puff of dust, never to get up again.

Luna gasped as a small hand clutched her shoulder. It was the small boy that she had minutes ago instructed to make is way out as quickly as possible.

"You save my life,' he said. "I find this out for your. Your friend, the man with the red line on his head, the one you tell me about. He is being sacrificed to the evil goddess. You have to save him now, or he burns. And the other, the tall one with orange head, he drink the potion, he in the nightmare."

"Thanks," said Luna. ''I'll go save them. I don't know how though. I suppose this is how Harry feels all the time."

The boy nodded. "Lord Shiva protect you, angel." And then he was gone.

Harry was taken from the chamber after the high priest left, roughly escorted by two Thuggee guards. They made it clear that there could be more resistance, but there was no need, as Harry didn't even try to fight back. Luna was a prisoner; Ron was dead, or worse. Harry was going to die here, in this hellhole in the middle of India, far away from England and the ministry and Ginny and everything else. Even worse, the village would never get back their children, or their shivalinga. No one would know of the Thuggee threat, until they released the power of the five Sankara stones. It would be the end of the world, and Harry was powerless to stop it.

Harry was made to wash and change into the same dark trousers the Thuggee wore, though he was allowed to keep his glasses. A female Thuggee entered afterward, to prepare him for the ritual. She traced long arching, intertwining lines across his bare chest using a thin blue paint.

After that, Harry was joined once more by the two guards, led through a network of tunnels. He could here the drumming and the chanting before they reached their destination, the place of his death. The temple of doom was much the same as when Harry had first seen it; yet it was a completely different feeling t enter as the sacrifice.

From across the chasm, Harry could see the worshipers of Kali, sitting on their knees, many seemed to be in a trance, their eyes blank, their mouths open. Harry noticed, with slight satisfaction, that Mola Ram, once again wearing the skull headpiece, had been joined on the platform by many more guards than before. It seemed that he would not put it past Harry to produce some ace in the hole at the last second. He had done it before.

The statue of Kali was even more magnificent from here. The metal frame stretched down from her grip waited for him. At the goddess's feet, the alter was once again filled by the three Sankara stones, glowing, they looked very out of place, as if the power of Shiva within them was unaware of the evil that surrounded his gifts to man.

Harry recognized Chatter Lal, among the Thuggee worshipers upon the platform with him. Beside the prime minister of Pankot, stood Ron Weasley. Ron was dressed as the other worshippers of Kali, painted with ornate blood red symbols. In his eyes, Harry saw the same mixture of emptiness and dark intelligence he had glimpsed in the eyes of the assassin in his room, the woman he had unintentionally killed. Harry could expect no help here, if still there at all, His friend's consciousness was deeply buried under the Thuggee's philosophy and drugs.

Harry was pulled to the metal frame, the crusty layer of dried blood upon it repulsed him, it had not been cleaned since the last sacrifice. Harry was strapped into it, the cold shackles locking around his wrists and ankles. Mola Ram slowly advanced toward him, as the chanting escalated. Harry spat in the high priest's face.

Behind Mola Ram, however, a completely different drama began to take place. One interesting enough that the ceremony halted to watch it take place.

Luna Lovegood had emerged from one of the many tunnels leading into the cavern. She was limping, but she had managed to get hold of a wand and had stunned three Thuggee guards.

"Ron," she shouted as he approached. "What are you doing, don't you see that they're going to kill Harry? And people say I'm strange." The thing that had been Ron Weasley said nothing, yet he joined the others in bombarding her shield charm with dark curses, ones he had never even learned.

Luna remembered the slave driver she had seen in the mine, the one that ha been killed. Deciding to take a chance, she dropped her shield charm and shoot a jet of flame into Ron's side. He fell back, mouth open in a silent scream.

Half a dozen spells hit Luna, the worst giving the impression that she had been hit over the head with a baseball bat. Luna fell to her knees, blood trickling down her face. The Thuggee closed in, but stepped back as Ron pushed them out of the way. Coming up in front of Luna, he hit her across the face. It stung, yet she had a distinct impression that he was holding back. As he drew back to deliver what appeared to be the final blow, Ron winked.

Then he spun around and instead punched the man next to him across the face, sending the guard reeling backward. Luna leapt to her feet and, seizing her fallen wand, joined the melee that had begun at the feet of the statue.

Blasting Thuggee out of the way, Ron charged at Mola Ram. Sidestepping what would heave been a very unpleasant curse indeed, the high priest vanished with a distinct pop. Apparently, the anti-apperation spell that encompassed Pankot Palace and much of the surrounding area was engineered not to apply to him.

Instead, Ron blasted open the shackle around Harry's left wrist. Before he could continue, a female Thuggee tackled him from behind, hooking her arms around his neck.

With his newly freed arm, Harry tore at the rest of his bindings, but they held fast.

Ron, meanwhile, elbowed his attacker in the stomach, and managed to slip out of her grip. She made for his throat again, but Ron's stunning spell hit her in the chest, blasting her back over the edge of the great chasm. As she fell, three more Thuggee took her place, trading spells with Ron faster than Harry's eyes could take in.

Luna ducked under the grip of another guard, and kicked him in the shin with her injured foot, leveling the larger man. She then sprinted across the platform toward Harry.

_"Alahamorha!" _

The shackles binding Harry to the frame snapped open. He fell out onto the stone floor, regaining feeling in his hands and feet. Behind Luna, he saw that Ron was close to being overwhelmed by the mass of Thuggee guards.

_"Flipendo!" _

Luna was lifted of her feet by the force of the spell. She slammed into the polished stone leg of the Kali statue, and came to rest in an unmoving heap before the Sankara stones.

Out of the mass of dualists, emerged the prime minister of Pankot. Chatter Lal had a wand in his hand, and a wild look in his eyes, as he made straight for Harry.

Had Chatter Lal killed Harry straight off, uttered the two words that would surely end the other wizards life, it would have brought a quick end to the battle, saved a great deal of time and money, and brought him even greater recognition throughout the ranks of the Thuggee. However, he did not.

Before a spell was spoken, Harry was on his feet. He slammed into Lal, sending the smaller man reeling backward, his wand rolling into the shadows. Lal made for it, but Harry side checked him, shoving him to the ground. Lal rolled to his feet, unharmed, and began to survey his opponent.

Harry felt his anger at the Thuggee, what they had done to both him and the hundred or so children down below, flowed fast, giving him strength. Harry felt like he could tear down the whole Thuggee cult, and causing Chatter Lal as much pain as he could seemed the way to start.

Harry threw a punch at Lal. Though smaller, the other man was quick and in good shape, he dodged with ease, driving his own fist into Harry, first his jaw, then his abdomen. Harry punched Lal in the side of the head, but it was a glancing blow, and Lal slipped away, once again sizing Harry up.

Chatter Lal made the next move, kicking Harry in the stomach so hard that all Harry's breath came out in a rush, as he fell onto his back, cutting his arm on the metal frame. Lal landed on his chest, driving his fists into the side of Harry's head again and again. Harry fought back, but it wasn't long before his vision began to darken, unconsciousness beckoned.

Using the last of his strength, Harry drove both his hands into Lal's chest, hurling the man backward. As Harry climbed to his feet, Lal produced a silver knife from the sash at his waist. He slashed twice; Harry was forced back, retreating from the gleaming blade. On the third try, Lal's knife cut across Harry's thigh, drawing blood.

And then the ground fell away beneath them.

Harry caught the edge of the pit that had just opened, his fingers sliding on the smooth stone. The magical inferno below licked at his feet. Chatter Lal was not so lucky. He plunged straight down. Harry tried to block out the screaming as flames devoured the Pankot prime minister.

With what felt like the last of his strength, Harry pulled himself out. "I'm sorry, Harry," exclaimed Luna, rushing toward him. "I saw the lever, and I couldn't resist." Behind them, the trapdoor slid shut.

After seeing the fate of their prime minister, the chamber was quickly emptied as the Thuggee on both sides of the crevasse retreated, no doubt awaiting orders from their high priest.

"Thought we'd lost you for a moment," said Harry to Ron. "Incidentally, how do you feel?"

"Hungry," said Ron, after a moments thought. Now that he mentioned it, Harry realized he hadn't eaten for a day, and felt much the same way. "Tired too. How'd you figure out about the fire, by the way? That was brilliant."

"I picked it up," said Luna, blushing slightly.

Harry took a black shirt from one of the unconscious Thuggee, it fit him reasonably. He also found a shoulder bag, which he filled with the three Sankara stones. It was much better than tucking them into his shirt.

"What now?" asked Ron. "We have the stones, we should get out before the Thuggee regroup."

Though part of Harry wanted to get as far away from Pankot place as was possible, and he had no desire to get into yet another fight, he knew he couldn't go leave the temple just yet.

"We're getting out," he said, indicating the tunnel through which Luna had entered. "All of us."


	15. Chapter 15: Children's Crusade

Chapter fifteen: children's crusade

Life in the mines was worse than death. The children were allowed five hours to sleep, if they were able too, and minimal amounts of water. Their food rations were designed to give them more energy and strength, yet keep them passive. To put it simply, they were drugged, and then worked to death.

Once work began, there was no stopping for any reason. The children learned quickly not to cry out, to groan in pain, it only brought the anger of the slave drivers upon them. All who had been present remembered what one of the guards had done to the girl a few days previously, or was it weeks, time was relative in the dark. The girl had been one of the oldest of those abducted; she had helped comfort the younger ones, and lightened the load of all around her. In other words, she had been a threat. The Thuggee had singled her out for that reason. But as they would not admit it, their excuse was that she had been caught sharing her ration with her younger brother, which in fact she had.

And while they kept an eye out constantly, the children had yet to find the rest of her.

And so they suffered in silence, spending hour after hour, day after day, digging and digging till their fingers bled, and then doing the best to ignore the pain as they continued to work. Yet all of the children had, in some form or another, prayed in their hearts. A so far unanswered prayer for a savior, and an angel, an emissary from Shiva. Someone to lead them out of hell.

That day was today.

It was nearing the end of the shift when the boy collapsed. It was not uncommon. Nearly everyday someone would falter, sometimes they only stole a moments rest, while other times they had no more strength. Many died of exhaustion; others simply lost the will to live.

As was normal, the enslaved children around him urged their fallen comrade to get up and return to work, before the guards noticed. The boy was limp and unconscious. It wasn't long before one of the Thuggee overseers noticed.

He stood over the boy, ignoring the other children shrinking from him. Silently he took the length of wood from his belt. He raised it, his mouth opening to form the cruciatus curse; the one few of the children had failed to endure.

But the word never came. Instead a jet of red light flew from the shadows. It hit the man in the face, throwing him back into stone wall, where he slid slowly to the ground, unconscious.

A man stepped out of the darkness. He was a young man, dressed simply. He carried a length of wood not unlike that that the overseers used to inflict pain. His hair was black and messy, his clothing plain, and his green eyes hid behind small panes of glass. On his brow, a red symbol was etched into his flesh. There could be no denying the fact that this man had been sent by the gods to free them.

And he was not alone. Behind him, though clearly looking to him for instructions was a tall freckled man, with hair the color of flame. Beside him, a woman with a dreamy look on her calm face, light blond hair streaming behind her. She was by far the most angelic of the three.

There was silence. Until one brave boy had the courage to cheer. Soon they were all shouting, proclaiming their joy at being rescued, and their awe at meeting the servants of Shiva.

Harry was overwhelmed by the reception. As he looked over the children of Mayapore, bruised and exhausted, but full of life, he felt better than he ever had in his life. More like the hero that everyone thought him to be. He couldn't help but wonder what professor Dumbledore would think if the late headmaster could see him now.

Unsurprisingly, the uprising caught the attention of the other Thuggee overseers. They were quickly dispatched by well aimed jinxes. Those not felled by magic, were overrun and trampled by the very slaves they were trying to contain. As Harry, Ron, and Luna released them from their shackles, the children moved in joyous wave. Down the tunnel that lead up o Pankot Palace, exited to feel the sun on their faces again.

It was just as Harry was seeing the last freed child, a girl who could not have been more than five, when things went hopelessly wrong.

Barely missing the girl as she entered, the door was slammed shut, sealing as its edges were melded into the rock. Harry turned to see the man charging toward him.

He was large, taller than Harry. He wore the dark clothing of the Thuggee, but his shirt hung open, revealing a tracery of red tattoos stretching across a muscled chest that could have been carved from stone. The man had bristly black beard, hiding part of his handsome face. A long red sash was around his waist, and his wand was in his grip.

This was the captain of the Thuggee guard. He had watched the battle unfold at the feet of the statue in the temple above, watched a Chatter Lal was murdered by these heathens, but instead of slipping away, they had snuck below to steal away the Thuggee's source of labor. They had already succeeded. Above, the Children were spilling out of the deserted palace, singing as they bounded across the courtyards, making their way toward their home and the families that waited for them. The captain had failed the goddess; it was as simple as that. His only hope was that he would be able to redeem himself before her, and before the high priest, by killing those responsible.

_"Expulso!"_

_ "Protego!"_

The first spell rebounded off Harry's shield. He was not so lucky the second time, and Harry had to duck away as a blast of orange light whipped by, singing his hair.

_"Stupefy!" _

The Thuggee blocked with ease. Harry sent to more cures his way, but both were deflected. The captain of the guard was a superb duelist. Yet, as the pair of combatants moved out into the open, Harry still managed to repel every move made against him.

Until, suddenly, Harry doubled over in pain. It felt as though someone had just ran him through with a sword. His wand rolled away. Harry was immobilized by the pain, unable to move as the next offensive spell slammed into him, raising a serious of oozing black welts along his arms.

And then it was gone; the pain receded as if it had never been there. But it had still cost Harry the duel. The captain of the guard stood over him, preparing to finish things.

_"Avada-"_

_ "Expeliarmus!" _

The Thuggee's wand was rested from his grip. Harry got to his feet to see Ron Weasley coming up behind the Thuggee. But the guard was ready for him. He was, perhaps, deadlier without his wand. The captain spun, lashing out with a perfectly aimed blow. Ron was knocked of his feet and back into a pile of empty shackles.

As the captain was distracted, Harry grabbed a sledgehammer from the ground beside him, and swung it with all his strength at the Thuggee's stomach. The captain caught the sledgehammer by the shaft, and hurled it away.

He then followed up with a blow to Harry's jaw. Harry managed to dodge second strike, but his own punch was easily blocked, then returned by a kick to Harry's stomach.

As Harry was thrown backward into the dirt, he was reminded of a fight that had taken place nearly a year previously. A battle that had taken place on and around an experimental plane in Egypt. Like now, it had begun with a wizard's duel, which had progressed into an old-fashioned fistfight. Also like before, Harry was hopelessly outmatched.

And then it happened again. Harry doubled over as the same feeling of being stabbed sucked the breath from his lungs. The captain was ready; he picked up Harry as if he weighed nothing, and slammed him into the side of a nearby mine cart. Lifting Harry above his head, the guard threw him down into the empty cart.

But this time, when the pain receded, Harry was ready. He grabbed the guard by the shoulders and, groaning with the effort, pulled the larger man into the cart with him. Upset by the new weight, the cart began to roll slowly down the track.

Though no new handicapping sensation came over him, Harry still found it hard to move at the rain of blows that drilled into his head and shoulders. Harry hit and thrashed, and many of his blows connected, but none made a difference to the captain of the guard.

At last Harry scored a point. With all his strength, he drove his heel into the captain's face. As the guard fell back, the cart tipped out its load, as it had been engineered to do automatically.

Both Harry and the guard were dumped out onto a conveyer belt, which slowly began to inch its way foreword. A grinding roar rang in Harry's ears, and he looked over to see that awaiting him at the end of the belt were two gigantic stone wheels, one on top of the other. Anything, or anyone, sucked in there would be flattened.

Harry grabbed the guard by the beard, holding on with all his strength, but the captain drove his elbow into Harry's chest, breaking his grip. Harry ducked under the next blow, and was about to retaliate, when the pain struck him again.

The captain of the guard shoved him, and Harry fell flat on his back, the surface beneath him moving ever so slowly. The captain of the guard seized a nearby rock, a rough chunk the size of a small cat, and brought it down on Harry's head. Though it wasn't, it felt as though Harry's skull had been fractured, along with the invisible sword, which was now in his chest. The guard raised the stone again and brought it down.

From far across the vast room, Luna watched the fight unfold with a growing sense of horror. Harry was being flattened; yet, her butting into the fight would not do a bit of good. Harry might have had a chance, but for whatever it was that was handicapping him.

Luna scanned the mine, looking for some sign of what was causing the sudden pain. Then she saw it. There was a network of catwalks, metal drilled into the ceiling. Near the edge of the room, a single figure was huddled in a crouch. It was the Maharajah. He held in his hands a doll that was made to resemble Harry. And he was rapidly stabbing it with a long pin. Luna had not been present when the kryta had first been demonstrated, but she knew what it was, and she knew that she needed to somehow get it away from Zalim Singh.

Crouching, Luna hurried over the other side of the chamber, directly below the Maharajah. She cast her gaze around for a ladder, a rope, something. Bus she found none. However, the wall was rough and jagged, and she was desperate.

Climbing up the wall of the mine, was one of the scariest moments it Luna's life. The rocks were sharp and slippery, and if she fell there was no repelling line to catch her. Wishing she had thought to conjure a rope, Luna reached the top and heaved herself onto the catwalk.

The Maharajah was sitting a few yards away, crouched over the doll; he had not yet noticed her.

_"Expeliarmus!" _

The Kryta was wrenched from the boy's hands and fell through the air, till Luna caught it. Cursing in Hindi, the Maharajah turned to face her, producing his wand from somewhere beneath his robes.

As Luna, far above, managed to snatch the kryta from the Maharajah's grip, the pain once again receded from Harry's chest. Instead, it was replaced by a dull ringing. He took stock of the situation. He was lying on his back on a conveyer belt that was carrying ever close to a horrific demise. And before him the captain of the Thuggee guard was preparing to bring a jagged piece of stone down on his head once again.

Harry's scrabbling fingers caught hold of a metal bucket, lying somewhere beside him. As the guard came in for the kill, Harry hit him across the face with it. The Thuggee was sent reeling backward, giving Harry time to get up.

Harry's next blow was a punch to the face; the guard rolled under it, and planted a solid chop to Harry's shoulder. Harry punched the man in the chest, but it felt as if he were hitting solid stone. Harry followed it up with a punch to the jaw, which actually connected.

The captain of the guard lashed out with a kick that brought Harry to his knees. He then slammed his fist down on where Harry's head had been a moment before. Instead, Harry had rolled away. He needed another weapon. Harry's fingers closed around a wooden handle, and he swung his new find into the guard's stomach with all the strength.

The guard bellowed as he stumbled backward, blood running down his stomach. Harry realized that he held in his hands a rusted handsaw, and threw it to the side, disgusted.

They had reached the end of the conveyer belt. During the fight, the sash wrapped tightly around the guard's waist had come partly undone. No as it streamed behind him, it was seized by the two rotating wheels of the crusher. The captain of the guard, screaming, tried the fight running forward, but to no effect. His eyes pleaded with Harry for assistance, and while Harry did not want to see anyone, not even this man, endure such a horrible fate, he hesitated. And as he hesitated, the Thuggee was pulled into the crusher. Harry watched him sucked inside with a mixture of disgust and interest. First his legs were crushed, then the rest of him, leaving behind only a rust colored smear on the stone.

And Harry was next. As he looked around franticly for a way off the conveyer belt, a rope fell beside him. Harry climbed it without a second thought. He reached the catwalk above with little difficulty.

Before him, a pitched duel was taking place, as Luna and the young Maharajah traded spells far above the main cavern. Yet, as Harry watched, one of the Maharajah's jinxes impacted off of Luna's shield charm, sending up a geyser of blue sparks that disappeared into the Maharajah's body. He cried out, and fell to his knees. His anger gone.

Harry realized that the Maharajah had been under the black sleep. Now he could not feel nearly as angry with the boy.

"Thank you," the Maharaja whispered through gritted teeth. "You must go, I will stay here for now, they do not know that you have released me.

"Take the left tunnel. It is the fastest and safest way out of the mines." With that he disappeared into the shadows.

"We need to get out. Now." Harry said, as he and Luna sprinted along the catwalk. He was certainly feeling the bruises of his fight on the crusher, but he couldn't let that distract him now. The children were saved, and he knew they way out. They were as good as safe.

And that, of course, was when the chamber began to fill with Thuggee, their high priest at their head.


	16. Chapter 16: A Wrong Turn

Chapter sixteen: a wrong turn

It was not the ranks of guards that filed into the chamber below that worried Harry, not yet. Not as he was currently two stories above it. Mola Ram emerged onto a balcony at the far end of the catwalk, flanked by six of his men. He instructed four of them to advance onto the catwalk, while the other two stood on either side of him, shooting spells toward Harry and Luna.

Harry ducked and blocked. A spell whizzed past him to shear through the catwalks metal handrail as if it were butter. Luna managed to stun one of the snipers, but all Harry's attacks simply impacted upon his enemies' shield charms.

Below him, on the cavern floor, Harry noticed that Ron had recovered from the injury inflicted upon him by the late captain of the guard. He was now defending himself against the advancing Thuggee, while slowly pushing a mine cart down a track which receded down a tunnel and out of the room.

Good idea, thought Harry. A mine cart would be the fastest way out, now that the passage up to the palace was sealed.

"Luna," Harry shouted over the noise of the spells. "Get down there and help him. I'll hold them off."

Luna nodded and retreated along the catwalk. She conjured another rope, and slid down it to the cavern floor.

Meanwhile, Ron had got the cart slowly rolling, and had climbed up into it. A Thuggee ran after him, unable to vault into the cart as he had intended, he simply grabbed the edge of the back with his hands, and was dragged along on his knees.

And then Harry had to look away, as the four Thuggee guards were upon him. The catwalk was narrow enough that only one could walk comfortably in a row, which gave Harry an advantage, as there was only one of him anyway.

The first Thuggee brandished a sword. It cut Harry across the chest, barely harming him as he dodged back, but slicing through his shirt. Harry dodged to the side as the sword came down on the railing beside him with a clang. Harry slammed his fist down on the guard's shoulder, and then kneed him in the stomach. Finally, he heaved the Thuggee over the edge of the catwalk.

Luna reached Ron's mine cart. Her spell hit its unwanted passenger in the small of the back, displacing him. With Ron's help, she scrambled inside. The cart began to pick up speed with the added weight.

Harry's stunning spell shot over the next Thuggee's shoulder, hitting the man behind him in the face. The second Thuggee's cruciatus curse hit Harry straight on. A maddening pain encompassed him, as it felt as though his very bones were aflame. Fighting the pain, Harry lurched forward into the guard, knocking the wand out of his grip. As the spell was broken, Harry hit the man with a well aimed blow to the jaw, and sidestepped him as he fell.

_"Confringo!"_

The spell missed Harry's ear by an inch. Behind him, it impacted with the catwalk in an explosion that shook the metal plating beneath Harry's feet. The catwalk behind him was torn part, and the sheared off portion began to bend, sloping downward. In turn, Harry pulled himself up to more stable footing. The fourth Thuggee guard confronted him, but Harry brought him down with a kick to the ankle, and a curse.

"Harry! Come on!" Harry looked down to see that the mine cart carrying Luna and Ron was quickly moving closer and closer to the tunnel mouth. There was no way he could jump down, and even if he could climb down safely, he wouldn't be there in time to join them before they disappeared into the darkness.

Then he saw it. The catwalks above were fitted with a pulley system, for transporting tools and other items up and down. Though buckets and boxes could be connected easily, now all that it had to offer was a metal hook. It was all Harry needed.

Before he could rethink this, Harry took a running jump off the catwalk. For an instant he hung in the air over the cavern below. And then he caught hold of the hook with his left hand.

It felt as though his left arm were wrenched out of its socket. Harry cried out, as the hook began its fast trip downward, not unlike an especially extreme zip line. The hook cut into his hand. Spells shot past him, from above and below, but none connected.

The ride lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like much longer. Harry let go at just the right time, and fell into the mine cart between Luna and Ron. The combination of new weight, and sloping track sent it going faster than ever.

The cart entered the tunnel at breakneck speed. Before them, it forked into two different tunnels.

"The left," Harry exclaimed, now remembering the Maharajah's instructions.

But it was too late. The track was adjusted to point to the right, and it was down the right tunnel that they plunged. Sending them deeper into the mines.

A jet of light hit the rough stone wall of the tunnel beside them, showering the mine cart with dust and slivers of rock. Harry cursed as he realized someone had been stupid enough to follow them. Looking back, he saw another mine cart identical to theirs. It was occupied by six Thuggee guards, all brandishing wands. And they were gaining.

Harry saw that Ron had his arm easing down on the lever at the front of the cart. Though to Harry it felt as if they were moving at least sixty miles per hour, made worse by the overall bumpiness of the track, he knew what they had to do in order to escape the Thuggee cart.

"Take it off the brake," Harry ordered. Ron swore, the obscenity ripped away by the rushing air, but he obeyed. The mine cart shot foreword, almost doubling in speed. All thoughts of their pursuers fled Harry's mind as the plunged down a steep incline.

Back in the main cavern of the mine, Mola Ram was looking over the damaged caused by the three enemies of the goddess. Though extensive, the worst blow was losing the child laborers.

"Sir," it was one of his lieutenants.

"Yes."

"They've taken the Sankara stones."

"I'm not surprised."

"Do you think that the men you sent in after them will be able to recover the stones?"

"I doubt it. But they will provide Potter and his allies with a very useful diversion. Meanwhile, I will gather our numbers and when they exit the mines, we will be ready and waiting."

"But what if they don't, sir. Exit the mines, I mean."

"Oh they will." The high priest of the Thuggee turned his gaze on a large metal cylinder, one that was filled with over ten metric tons of water. "We'll flush them out."

After the plunge, which effectively made Harry feel as if the bottom of his stomach had dropped out, the tunnel leveled out again. Though they were no longer gaining, the mine cart filled with Thuggee was still behind them. Spells shot past them to collide with the walls of the tunnel, sending up sprays of rock dust.

Many of the spells would have connected with their cart, if not for Harry and Luna aptly blocking them (Ron's full attention was occupied with the brake). Harry sent plenty of jinxes back at the opposite cart, but none connected.

Harry's eyes fell on a disused railroad tie, lying on the bed of the cart. Used to repair the tracks if needed. A plan began to form in his mind. Leaving Luna to exchange fire with the Thuggee cart, Harry grabbed hold of the railroad tie, and heaved it out onto the tracks.

The mine cart of Thuggee guards saw it too late. The railroad tie had fallen across the tracks, and, upon hitting it, the Thuggee cart was overturned. It spun end over end, sending wheels and pieces of metal flying into the air.

Leaving the wreckage behind, Harry's cart speed around a sharp turn. The whole vehicle leaned to the right, its left two wheels lifting slightly off the track.

"Watch the brake on the curves," Harry shouted over the deafening clatter of metal on metal, "Otherwise we'll turn over."

Though their persuers had been dispatched, Harry had a feeling that their troubles were not over yet. He was right.

Another mine cart turned out of a different tunnel to their track, behind them. It was also identical to theirs, and while this one had only four occupants, all were Thuggee. Harry vagually realized that this cart was split half and half, two men, two women.

As the track once again sloped downward, the two carts began to exchange spells as they had before. One hit Luna, she fell back as a long cut appeared over her left eye.

The tunnel forked before them. As Harry and his cart turned to the right, he noticed a lever set in the wall, the one meant to change the direction of the track. Harry's next spell hit the lever with enough force to flip it down. The Thuggee cart was diverted into the left tunnel.

But it was not the last that would be seen of them. After a few more twists and turns, the tunnel interceded with another. The Thuggee cart reappeared, this time on their immediate left. The two mine carts were racing neck and neck, with only a few feet between them.

One of the Thuggee drew her wand, pointing at Ron's back. Harry reached across to grab her wrist, knocking the wand from her grip. The two Thuggee men grabbed hold of his arm, and pulled Harry toward them. He would have been completely yanked over into the other cart, had not Luna seized him by the legs. Ron left the brake and joined her in trying to pull Harry back into the cart.

Harry hung between the two carts, both of them trying to pull him in. looking ahead, he saw that the tracks split up, once again separated by a rock wall that was approaching rapidly. If they didn't pull him in soon, Ron and Luna would be forced to let go to avoid killing Harry.

Despite their greatest efforts, the Thuggee were slowly winning the tug-a-war. Luna released Harry; leaving Ron to pull, and, pulling out her wand, shot one of the Thuggee men in the face with a stunning spell.

Harry fell from the grip of the Thuggee cart, as he was dropped, he caught an unpleasant glimpse of their carts wheels, wobbling and sending up streams of sparks of the rails. Then he was pulled back up into the cart. The Thuggee had once again disappeared from view.

The speed of the cart propelled them up a short incline, to where the track leveled out once again. This time, they were hemmed in by the rock. Harry looked up to see the Thuggee cart racing along a ledge far above them. He took small satisfaction in knowing there was no way the guards could get to them from up there. Unless they were stupid enough to…

As if answering the unspoken challenge, a Thuggee jumped out of the cart far above, and fell twenty feet, to slam down on top of Ron. It was the same woman whose wand Harry had wrestled away.

Recovering quickly from the drop, she hit him across the face. Harry managed to block her next blow, and grabbed her arms. They grappled for a moment, but the woman was unable to break free. Swearing, she spat in Harry's face, and then brought her knee up into his gut.

Breaking free, she seized him by the neck, her fingernails cutting into his skin. The Thuggee cart had once again disappeared from view.

Harry grabbed her by the shoulders, and threw her to the floor of the cart, where her head slammed into the metal with a muffled bong. Rolling to her feet, she swept Harry's legs out from under him. As Harry grabbed the side of the cart for balance, she darted around him and grabbed him from behind, hooking her forearm against his neck, making it impossible to breath.

However, the Thuggee had forgotten about the cart's other occupants. Luna punched her in the side of the head. And Ron grabbed hold of her shoulders. Together, they heaved the Thuggee woman out of the cart.

As the scuffle had unfolded inside it, the cart had drifted into a disused part of the mine. The ground below was unstable, as were the walls around. As they rushed past, the boards holding up the ceiling creaked, small rocks raining from above.

Some twenty yards ahead, the tunnel ahead collapsed. The other mine cart had passed over an especially weak portion of the tunnel, and had fallen through to crash, screaming into the ground. The tunnel around them began to collapse in earnest.

Ahead of them, where the Thuggee cart had fallen through, Harry saw that they had shorn through the track, leaving a break in the track, the length of five carts. Harry seized the sides of the carts and brushed him self for the coming crash.

And then they were airborne. The broken track propelled the mine cart into the air. When they landed, a few long seconds later, the shockwave seemed to jostle Harry's bones. Yet, miraculously, they had landed back on the track, just as before.

As the tunnel around them fractured, burying the way they had come in a pile of wood and hard rock, Harry found himself laughing, from amazement at their escape as well as at the fact that, against all odds, they had managed to both save the children of Mayapore, and rescue the village's sacred rock, as well as two others.

Though the portion of tunnel behind them collapsed, the mine cart made it into a more stable section of tunnel with seconds to spare. After a sharp turn to the right, the end came into sight.

Literally.

Ahead of them, the tracks simply ended. And, a few feet beyond that, the tunnel ended in a wall of solid black rock. Though it was no dead end, there were some other tunnels branching away, it was the end of the line for the mine cart, and if they didn't slow down the rock wall would flatten them. An especially pathetic death, considering all they had been through to get to this point.

"The brake!" Luna shouted. Ron twisted the lever down, and it broke off in his hand. If anything, the cart speed up.

Harry leaned over the side, pointing his wand at the wheels, willing them to slow. "Stop, stop, stop!" there was no effect, until Harry remembered that 'stop' was not an actual spell.

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _

At this, the wheels of the mine cart ceased to turn and, with a spray of sparks, the cart came to a stop, just before the end of the track.

Harry, wincing as he once again began to feel his various injuries, climbed out of the mine cart. He straightened up; making sure that the three Sankara stones were all safely stored in his 'borrowed' shoulder bag. They were.

"That was the most fun I've had since I was sixteen," said Luna, grinning. The cut above her eye had stopped bleeding, and she was mostly unhurt otherwise. Harry remembered that Luna had been sixteen during the Battle of Hogwarts, and he hoped that that was not the event she was referring to.

"If you say so," said Ron. He was looking rather green; Harry guessed that he had not enjoyed the ride nearly as much as Luna.

"Well," said Harry. "We should have no trouble from now on. We just find a way out, start heading toward Mayapore, and contact the ministry so they can deal with Mola Ram and the rest of the situation at Pankot. Oh, and I need a drink."

"Look behind you then," said Luna, her eyes widening. Harry did, and he saw a huge wall of white water bearing down on top of them, nearly filling the tunnel. Not exactly what Harry had had in mind.

"On second thought, just run!"


	17. Chapter 17: The Broken Bridge

Chapter seventeen: the broken bridge

They ran. Harry picked a tunnel at random, and sprinted down it, with the others close behind. Behind them, the wave of water crashed into the wall of rock, swirling upward. It encompassed the abandoned mine cart, crushing it like a soda can. With nowhere else to go, the water poured into the smaller tunnels.

Harry tripped, but caught himself, scraping his palms on the rocky floor. Ron and Luna ran past him. Harry got to his feet and ran as fast as he could. It wouldn't be long before the water caught up with him, he could hear it roaring in his ears. If it caught up with him, he had no need to worry about drowning; the impact would break every bone in his body.

Harry lost a few seconds turning a corner. Ahead of him, sunlight blasted into the tunnel, stinging his eyes. It had been some time since he had seen the sun. Squinting, Harry ran out into the fresh air. It was only then that he realized that he was standing on a narrow ledge above a hundred foot drop.

Instinctively, Harry threw himself to the side as the wall of water blasted out of the tunnel, becoming a huge jetting waterfall. The ledge disappeared, but Harry grabbed hold of the rock wall. As the water thundered beside him, spraying him with droplets, Harry got his first real look around.

It was early morning, the sun beating down from the sky. Though Harry had not realized it, it had been a day and a night since they had entered the tunnel leading them down into the Thuggee's domain.

Harry was hanging from a wall of solid rock. One of two that made up a gigantic gorge, spanned by a suspension bridge. Far below, at the bottom of the gorge, a river rushed past. With a closer look, Harry realized that it was filled with crocodiles, snapping their jaws at the anticipation of the people who would undoubtedly soon be joining them.

"Harry!" it was Luna. "What are you doing over there?"

Harry looked around to see that Ron and Luna were in much the same situation as him. Only they were on the other side of the, now diminishing, waterfall.

"Just climb," Harry shouted back, "I'll meet up with you at the top."

It turned out that Ron and Luna were on the easier rock face. Luna was the first up, and, though Ron wasn't far behind, he couldn't help but suspect that she had done this sort of thing before. Harry was still climbing up as they were getting their first look around the top.

The jungle extended nearly to the edge of the gorge. Yet, Pankot Palace still loomed over them. Ron decided that the other side of the gorge seemed a great deal more inviting.

There was one way across the gorge. The bridge had once been in common use, but that had been a long time ago. It had been new during the golden age of the Thuggee, sometime during the 1850s. It was made from rope and timbers, drawn taught across a hundred foot gap. It was about six feet wide, and its railings were mad of rope. It swung slightly in the breeze, the wind whistling through the rotting timbers.

"On second thought," said Ron warily, "let's wait for Harry."

Luna tapped one of the posts that marked the beginning of the bridge. "After the mine carts, I don't see how this is that scary. It's obviously stood for a hundred years."

Luna stepped out onto the bridge. It creaked and moved slightly beneath her weight, but held firm. "See" she said, taking another step. "Perfectly safe."

And then the board beneath her gave way, crumbling into dust. Luna disappeared. For a second Ron thought that she had plunged to her death in the gorge below, but then he saw that she had caught hold of the rope. Amazingly, she hadn't screamed.

Ron eased out onto the bridge, aiming sure to use the board that had held Luna's weight. The rotted rope under her hands unraveled, and Luna was falling again. But Ron seized her right hand in his.

Luna's hands were sweaty, and began to slip. Below her, the crocodiles writhed in the moving water. Ron knew he had to be fast and so he heaved her upward with all his strength. Luna was fairly light, for a woman her age, and Ron was able to bring up to chest level with the bridge. Then, with his help, she was able to scramble up and onto solid ground, where she lay panting, her eyes wide.

"Perhaps I spoke to soon," she said quietly.

Harry did not enjoy the climb up out of the gorge. He knew for a fact that many people did this sort of thing for fun, but Harry couldn't imagine why. It took him a little over twenty minutes to reach the top. It was a difficult climb and he took his time, taking advantage of the various ledges and hanging plants that made his climb easier. Still, when he finally reached the top, his hands were sore, his fingers cut, and his breath sort. He was sweating, which was not a pleasant sensation when mixed with the various cuts and bruises he had received.

Harry watched as Ron and Luna tried the bridge for the second time. This time they were more careful, testing each board before distributing their weight to it. This was made no easier by the fact that every movement sent a tremor along the bridges length.

Harry walked quickly over toward the bridge, intending to join them. He had a distinct feeling that a derelict was not the worst still in store for them.

He was answered by someone behind him grunting out a quick message in Hindi, a deep voice. Though Harry did not understand it, he doubted it was anything if polite.

Harry turned to find himself confronted by two Thuggee guards, both men, brandishing their wands.

"You know," Harry replied, "that face paint isn't nearly as scary in the sunlight."

_"Incendio!"_

_"Sectumsempra!"_

_ "Protego!"_

Both of the Thuggee's spells rebounded of Harry's shield charm. It held, but he took a step back from the impact.

_"Petrificus!"_

Harry's spell was easily deflected by one of the Thuggee duelists, while the other hit Harry with a curse that caused his front teeth to lengthen uncontrollably. With a few slurred words, Harry was able to return his teeth to their original size and shape, but barely managed to sidestep a particularly nasty jinx.

Harry realized that he had no way of beating the two guards, not with both their attentions focused on him. So, without warning, he darted forward, charging the smaller of the two guards. Harry grabbed the man's wrist, forcing his wand downward, and pointed his own wand over the Thuggee's shoulder.

_"Impedimenta!"_

His spell hit the larger Thuggee in the chest, slamming him backward into a tree, immobilized. The other guard brought his elbow up into Harry's ribs, and then shoved him away. Harry darted to side as the man's curse shot straight past him, and retaliated with a stunning spell, which was easily blocked.

Harry shot another nonverbal spell at the Thuggee guard, and as the man was blocking it, Harry darted foreword. He passed through the shield charm with very little resistance, but was left with an unpleasant sensation, not unlike walking through a ghost. Ignoring this, Harry hit the man across the jaw and, as his opponent fell back, Harry stunned him.

Harry once again made for the bridge, leaving his two opponents behind him. Eight more Thuggee guard emerged from the jungle with a shout. Harry remembered his success when dealing with two opponents at once, and broke into a run. A hail of spells pursued him.

Harry ran out onto the rope bridge, it shook wildly beneath him. He stumbled, and caught himself on the rope railing.

"A pleasure Mr. Potter. For you perhaps," said Mola Ram, arrogantly. He stood on the rope bridge, blocking Harry's way forward. With him ten more Thuggee. Luna and Ron stood with them, surrounded, wands pointing at their backs.

Harry looked back to see the other Thuggee moving onto the bridge from the side he had entered. Blocking his last route of escape. Harry had no desire to dive over the edge. The bridge shifted under him, he managed to keep his balance, and an idea began to form in his mind.

"I have the stones," said Harry quietly. He removed the shoulder bag and held it out over the side of the bridge, holding it by the strap. "Let me and those two go, and I'll give them to you."

"That would be counter productive," replied the high priest. "You see: I have the advantage. One word from me and the three of you will be dead."

"I'll drop the stones," said Harry giving the bag a little shake as it hung.

"I'm sure you will. They will be recovered. You won't."

Desperate times call for desperate measures, thought Harry. And, he decided as he put the shoulder bag on again, this would certainly qualify as a desperate time.

Harry grabbed the worn rope of the railing and began to wind it around his hand. He looked Ron straight in the eyes with the silent message 'see what I'm doing, do the same'. Ron's eyes widened, as he realized what Harry had planned, but related to the instructions to Luna, and both of them began to, inconspicuously, get better hold of the railings. They would need it.

"This is your last chance," said Harry quetely.

Mola Ram laughed. "Last chance? That would be my line! There's nothing you can do."

"Oh, there's something."

Harry closed his eyes, gripped the rope even tighter, and whispered.

_"Diffindo."_

The rope bridge snapped in half.

The age-old fibers were severed. The bridge, what was left of it, writhed in the air, twisting and turning as it fell. Harry kept his eyes shut through the whole experience. It actually made it worse. First he was falling, the wind in his hair, air ripping at his clothes. Then there was a shuddering impact as the remains of the bridge slammed into the side of the gorge. And all through it, he heard the screaming of the Thuggee who had been displaced, freefalling into the water below. The water filled with predators.

Harry opened his eyes. He was hanging from the rope bridge, which now hung against the side of the cliff, somewhat like a ladder. He was the farthest from the top. Five people had managed to keep hold of the bridge. Himself, Ron and Luna, who had all been expecting something of the sort to happen. Mola Ram had also survived the severing, and with him another Thuggee, a woman dressed in the uniform of his guard.

The high priest was the first to move, not content to simply hang, recovering from the shock of what had just happened, He began to climb, using the boards as a ladder. He was all to reminded of the bridge's instability as the next board he grabbed shattered in his grip. He fell, but grabbed at a nearby rope and regained his grip.

Several yards above, Ron and the Thuggee woman were directly across from each other. Ron was content to simply hang on, but the Thuggee still had her orders in mind. She produced a short knife from somewhere in her clothing, and slashed out, cutting across Ron's shoulder. Ron dodged the next knife strike, and grabbed her arm, shoving her away.

The Thuggee lost her grip and fell. Below, she managed to grab hold of Mola Ram's robes, but he shoved her away, and the woman plunged, screaming, past Harry, into the water below.

Harry began to climb in earnest. Above, he could see Mola Ram quickening his pace. Harry realized that the high priest was aiming for Ron and Luna. Harry couldn't allow that to happen.

Reaching up, he seized Mola Ram by the leg, pulling him down. The high priest lashed out, kicking Harry in the face, so that blood began to pour from his nose, but he still lost enough ground that the two were at face level.

Mola Ram began to chant. Flexing his fingers, he plunged them toward Harry's chest, specifically his heart. Harry remembered the Thuggee ceremony. He remembered watching the high priest reach his arm into a man's chest, removing his still beating heart. He knew that he couldn't let the priest's fingers touch him.

Harry seized Mola Ram by the wrist. He tried to force the man's fingers away from his chest, but the high priest was immensely strong. Using all the strength of his left arm, Harry slammed the high priest's hand away from his chest, and into the rock wall.

Hissing in pain, Mola Ram slammed his open hand into Harry. Not into his face, as one might expect, but into Harry's right hand. Harry instinctively let go, and plummeted backward into the gorge.

Harry flailed blindly for a handhold, more scared than he had been severing the bridge. After what felt like several minutes, he grasped the familiar rotted rope, and was brought to a stop at the very bottom of the bridge, not very far at all from the bottom of the gorge. Trying to look straight ahead, rather than up or down, Harry began to climb again.

Meanwhile Mola Ram reached Luna. He seized her ankle in a crushing grip, trying to pull her off the bridge. Luna screamed, and kicked at his head. She jabbed her heel into his face, shattering his nose. The high priest screamed as he was once again dislodged.

Harry didn't recognize Mola Ram's fall until the high priest hit him with a hard blow to the jaw. Harry found himself once again level with the Thuggee priest, and punched Mola Ram in the shoulder. It was only a glancing blow, and, as most of Harry's attention was focused on staying on the bridge, his next attack failed to connect at all.

Mola Ram grabbed Harry's shoulder bag, tearing it open. Inside, the Sankara stones glowed peacefully. Mola Ram made a grab for them, but Harry lurched backward, and the high priest seized the bag instead. He pulled, and the bag tore along the seams, it was only designed to endure so much stress. One of the stones fell through the newly made hole, tumbling end over end into the gorge below.

Another Sankara stone fell, but Mola Ram caught this one, snatching it out of the air. "The stones are mine, they belong to my family," he shouted over the roar of the river below.

Harry shook his head. "The stones belong to Shiva, not Kali."

As if to prove Harry's point, the Sankara stone in the high priest's grip began to glow all the brighter. Smoke curled from Mola Ram's grip. His hand began to darken and blister, the skin peeling away so that Harry could glimpse white bone beneath. Mola Ram screamed with pain, but he still did not release the stone. Yet, as the pain grew greater, he did relinquish his hold on the rope.

Still holding the Sankara stone, he plunged into the gorge, slamming twice into rock wall. The high priest of the Thuggee hit the water with a great splash. The crocodiles around him closed in, and the river ran red with blood.

Harry dropped the ruined shoulder bag, seizing the third Sankara stone as it fell. He climbed quickly, but not without caution. It would be awful if he died now just by slipping. Ron and Luna had already reached the top, but Harry still had nearly half the length of the bridge to go.

The board directly above Harry shattered under a jet of orange light. Harry looked to see that Thuggee had overrun the far side of the gorge. They had lost their leader, and their rallying point, but that did not mean that they couldn't kill Harry. Ron and Luna returned fire, but it made no real difference. Harry could tell it wouldn't be long until one of their spells connected, sending him plunging back into the gorge.

Harry was as surprised as the Thuggee when a bunch of dark suited Indian men emerged from the woods above. They had wands in their hands, and began to attack the Thuggee from across the gorge. After a few moments of fighting, the remaining Thuggee retreated back into the forest.

When Harry reached to top of the bridge, he was greeted enthusiastically by Ron and Luna, and hugged by both of them. Mr. Blumbart also greeted him.

"Harry, I do say I've heard stories, but it's something else to see you in action. I daresay you're an old hand at this sort of thing. I went and got ministry assistance, but, well, it seemed as though you were doing quite well by yourself."

Harry actually found himself wishing that the Indian ministry had arrived about half an hour earlier, but he simply thanked Blumbart for both his praise and his timely rescue.

Beneath Harry's shirt, the last Sankara stone, the one that had belonged to the villagers, felt comfortably warm. It glowed as it slowly healed its savior's injuries.

"That is by far the most fantastic story I have heard in years. Honestly, I wouldn't believe it from anyone else," Mr. Blumbart exclaimed.

"I get that a lot," said Harry, feeling happier than he had been since he had last seen Ginny.

They had returned to Pankot Palace. Harry, Ron and Luna had all gotten fresh clothes, and a much needed bath. To make things even better, they had had a real meal, with food that, while Indian, was very much eatable.

During the meal, lunch, he supposed, Harry related everything that had happened to him since the brawl at club Obi-Wan. He did not, however, explain that a single Sankara stone had not plunged into the gorge, but was even now stored in his room. He had learned his lesson with the Ark of the Covenant. Still, the story entertained Blumbart and some other ministry officers for nearly an hour. In return, they answered some questions of his own.

Zalim Singh was still the Maharajah. He had fully recovered from the black sleep, and he would be spending much of his time fixing the damage caused by the Thuggee. The temple complex under the palace had been found deserted upon arrival. But the Indian ministry would make a point of hunting down the remaining Thuggee. Also, many pieces from below, including the twenty-foot statue of Kali, would be donated to museums around the world.

"In ending," said Blumbart. "We owe you a great deal. The whole world, let alone Mayapore, will be a much better off because of you. I expect that you wish to return to Britain as soon as possible, it can be arranged."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I really do want to go home. But I have a lose end to tie up first."


	18. Chapter 18: Found

Chapter eighteen: found

When Harry and his companions reached Mayapore, two days later, it was a completely different village. The ground around it was still burned and blighted, but the sound of laughter rang clear. The children of the village had returned. Though some of them would not be coming back, most of the children had survived and recovered of the Thuggee's abuse. Harry could see the difference in the adults as well; they all carried themselves differently, smiled more often. Harry had no doubt that if he had turned around right then and never returned the villages shivalinga, it would have hardly made a difference. Despite its symbolic and physical power, the lose of the children was what had really defeated Mayapore, not the lose of their sacred rock.

Harry, Ron and Luna were greeted as heroes. They were cheered on by all, as they were led to the hut where Harry had first learned of the villager's plight. Inside, the Village Elder was waiting for them. Harry took out a cloth bag, and took from it the Sankara stone. Though none of its sister stones were nearby, it had the wisdom to glow appropriately, with an inner red light.

The village elder took the stone, tears running down his cheeks. He insisted that Harry deposited it in the village's shrine. Though he felt a bit odd about doing so, Harry obliged. Then the celebrations began in earnest.

Though there was no immediate effect, over time the Sankara stone would scour the Thuggee's curse from the land around. It would become green, plants would grow, animals would roam, and all would be as it had been. Better, in fact.

There was dancing and singing that lasted into the night. Huge bonfires keeping the darkness at bay. There was eating as well. Harry was offered a generous portion, but he respectfully declined. He felt he had gained the right.

But for Harry, there was one more thing he needed to do. He felt that after the whole ordeal in the temple of doom, he was brave enough.

Harry found Ron in the sidelines, leaning against a hut, he was watching the bonfire.

"I've been meaning to talk to you," said Harry.

"Go on."

"It's, well, it's about your sister."

"Oh."

"Yes. Well, I want to ask her to marry me. I just wondered if that would be fine…with you."

Ron nodded, "I know."

"What?"

"She told me about a month ago, and I'll tell you the same thing I told her."

"Okay."

"Go ahead. As long as you, well, want to, and you love each other, it's. As long as you do everything you can to keep my sister happy, it's fine with me. Also, like I always told myself when you were dating back in school, better you than someone else."

Harry felt as though a weight had been lifted of his shoulders. "Great, thanks. I'll be over there."

Harry walked into the darkness. He realized, after a moment, that this was the same place where he and Luna had found the child who had escaped the Thuggee, and gotten the clue about the Sankara stones. It seemed like so long ago.

"I like looking up at the stars," said Luna Lovegood. "It makes me feel as though everything I don't like matters a great deal less."

Harry hadn't noticed her before, though he had seen her leave the party. She was laying on her back, staring upwards, her hands knitted behind her head. With her dark clothing, she blended in rather well with the darkened ground.

"So you know," she said. "The ministry sent you a letter. They'll be here to pick us up tomorrow. We have to hold out until then, their exact words."

Harry smiled, whatever he had felt back there in the village, it was something the ministry would never understand. And then…

"You read my mail?"

"Yes. Isn't that what you're supposed to do with it?"

"Well, not other people's, usually."

"My apologies, it got torn open in flight anyway. Oh and they say that while you did rather fumble things, they consider your assignment in Shanghai a success. Apparently, Lao Che went just a little to far by attacking Harry Potter himself in front of so many people. He should be in Azkaban within the year."

"Oh, okay then." Harry sat down beside Luna.

"You know," said Luna. "I think that I'll have to postpone that article on the mink hippogriffs of Shanghai. I'm planning on devoting the next Quibbler to the Thuggee cult, and the Sankara stones. Leave out Mayapore, but give people a good idea what happened."

"You'll have to send me a copy. I can give you an interview. Exclusive."

"Would you really."

"Sure, I bet Ron would too."

"Thanks Harry. With you in it, I think more people will believe it. You know, some people think everything I publish is just a load of superstitious nonsense, they can get very rude about it too."

"Their loss."

"That's what I keep telling myself. It's still annoying though." Luna rolled over onto her stomach, so she could look up at Harry.

"Congratulations about you and Ginny, by the way. I approve, you are both very nice, and so you should make a nice couple."

"Er, thanks. I haven't even asked her yet, though."

"I know, but she'll say yes. I would. Anyway, any other plans? I'm guessing you won't be moving to India straight off."

Harry shook his head and grinned. He answered quetely, with three familiar words.

"Fortune and glory."


End file.
